#idk what he does that keeps him moonlighting. early evening work but then hes up all night and sleeps from like 6-2pm

[dockaspbrak]

In another life itd be cool if i had a night time only roommate who like came out of a wall and was a human version of an owl (not vibes but horrible lab accident) and we chatted and socialized when i have insomnia and cant sleep so its like. A positive opportunity instead of a failure that will be pointed out 150 times tomorrow

[loguetowns]

when it happened

shanks x reader, sanji x reader

when they realize they're in love you

1k words

a/n: idk what possessed me to pair these two together but the heart wants to write what it wants and who am i to fight it

the flag is what shanks sees first, the thrice-scarred skull waving against the moonlight. next comes the ship embedded with his and his crew's blood, sweat and tears. its colossal size is a sight for sore eyes, especially compared to the dinky boat he's had to use.

but it doesn't feel like he's coming home until he sees a familiar silhouette race down the gangway, rushing towards him at a speed that only shooting stars could rival.

you run and you run, faster and faster, and shanks can't help but smile. he knows how lucky he is to have someone almost as excited as he is to come home.

how your hair catches wind, how starlight shines on your skin, and how your smile gets bigger as you get closer —

oh, how he's missed you.

"you're home!"

you hurl yourself at him, suddenly airborne when shanks lifts you off the ground. laughing, he spins you 'round and 'round with a strong hold on your waist.

it's amazing how right it feels to be embracing you like this, and shanks could never tire of this homecoming ritual of yours.

"hmm, maybe we should put a stop to this," he teases. "i feel like it keeps getting harder. you putting on weight or something?"

he sets you down with a playful smile, earning him an adorable scrunched nose in protest.

"don't be rude," you swat his arm. "maybe it's the fact that you only have one arm?"

"hmm, unlikely to be the case but that's all the more reason to stop doing this, eh. you're going to wear out my only good arm."

"bullshit," you say. "don't act like you hate this. i know you love it."

love.

love is what echoes in his mind as you pull him a little closer to you. love is what floods his veins when he meets you halfway, closing the distance until you're only a breath away from him.

your eyes reflect the heavens above, and the way the moon glows makes it looks like there's stardust on your cheeks. shanks takes in your pretty face up close, like a prisoner who's seen the sky for the first time in years.

and years is how long it's been since shanks can remember feeling this way — this warm, kindling, feel-it-in-your-bones affection.

shanks kisses you, sweet and true, and thinks to himself that if home is where the heart is then he's finally home.

"you're right," he whispers against your lips.

"it's love."

"you're up already?"

sanji looks up from the cutting board to find you standing in the doorway.

your hair is mussed and you're wearing your favourite t-shirt (aka his favourite t-shirt), thighs peeking from under the hem as you stretch. he fights a smile watching you try (and fail) to stifle a yawn but lets it go when you catch his eye and blush in embarrassment.

even half-asleep, sanji thinks you are the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

"i always wake up this early," he says, his hands return to the task at hand but his eyes stay locked on you. "breakfast for these goons needs a lot of prep, y'know."

"boo," you shuffle towards him. "why does it have to be you who always makes breakfast?"

"sweetheart, i'm the cook. that's kind of my job."

when you finally reach him, you wrap your arms to hug him from behind, careful not to disrupt his knife work. you can't see it, but sanji's expression is soft and warm, second only to a hug from his beloved.

"okay," your breath tickles him. "but it's also your job to cuddle me in the morning. so what are are we going to do about that?"

sanji laughs, the sound of it reverberating against your cheek. he puts his knife down to turns around, returning your embrace and holding you in his arms.

"what can i do to make it up to you?"

you glance up at him with sleepy eyes and the most loveable expression a man could hope to see at dawn. "a kiss would be a good start."

"easy," he grins. he leans in to close the distance between you but stops just in front of your lips. he doesn't close his eyes, choosing to take a moment and admire you in all your wonder.

as far as pretty things go, sanji's no stranger to appreciating beautiful people. yet, there's something about you that is deeper and truer than any attraction he's ever felt before.

it fills him with an inexplicable joy when you're around, and just when he thinks that his heart couldn't be any fuller, you smile at him and his heart grows and grows still. the way he feels about you is bottomless, boundless, limitless, and he's certain that this must be what love feels like.

he figures he's waited long enough to fall in love, and you've definitely waited long enough to be kissed. sanji's lips meet yours, spreading warmth all the way down to his toes, the sweetest taste on his tongue.

he pulls away with a heartstruck look that reflects your own.

sanji rubs a thumb against your cheek, "you're perfect."

you beam at him.

"but your breath stinks," he teases.

you clamp your hands over your lips, a wondrous picture of delightful embarrassment. he laughs at your cute little pout, thanking the heavens for allowing him to keep this angel to himself.

you try to pull away, but he traps you in his arms, and leans in for another kiss (despite the supposed stinky breath). you give in, kissing him again and again and again.

"well," you say when you finally break away. "if you can't join me in bed then i guess i'm joining you in the kitchen. just let me brush my teeth and become a decent human being first."

"sure, sweetheart."

sanji's heart flutters and love overflows into his veins as he watches you skip across the kitchen. you stop in the doorway, looking back over your shoulder.

"oh, sanji?"

"hm?"

"good morning," you hum.

almost like a gift from above, sunlight spills through the windows, bathing two lovers in a quiet kitchen, and sanji knows that this is all he needs.

"good morning, my love."

[unforth]

Modern Yanshen BDSM AU where Yan Wushi is the dean of a prominent local university's philosophy department. It's a really high-stakes job and he really needs a way to relax and, well, he had an adventurous enough youth that he knows how he likes to unwind so he finds a club that'll cater to his preferences and, after filling out all the paperwork and discussing things with the owner, he finds himself in his first appointment with one of their doms: a gentle, quiet man who never offers his name ("call me 'sir,' please") and who requires one strange condition - anyone he doms for must wear a blindfold.

Well, the whole point was to give over control, so Yan Wushi is fine with that condition.

Sir is an expert in bondage, which is what Yan Wushi wanted, especially suspension bondage. Their early sessions are non-sexual, just about relaxation, surrender, and personal freedom. Yan Wushi is given to brattiness, and whereas other doms he's worked with have punished him, Sir mostly ignores him, and when he does reply, Yan Wushi can hear his smile.

He likes that smile, even though he can't see it.

He likes drawing that smile out.

But more than that, he likes the moment when he goes from wanting to sass to just...floating, free, quiet, listening to Sir praise him and soothe him.

And if there's something about that voice that's familiar...well, Yan Wushi interacts with literally hundreds of people every day - students, faculty, colleagues at other universities, job seekers, on and on and on. Even if they've met, it means nothing - probably some student moonlighting for enough to pay the university's (frankly ludicrous) tuition fees.

Anyway, that's about as far as I've gotten on this story idea, but to summarize...

Or, the one where service top sub Yan Wushi didn't hire the quiet blind guy who smirked at Yan Wushi's sarcasm because the quiet blind guy smirked at Yan Wushi's sarcasm instead of biting back, instead of laughing, instead of being offended, instead of any normal reaction, and wtf? (Shen Qiao actually just smiled. Yan Wushi's radar is busted.) So Shen Qiao wandered off to get a job at the local community college and makes ends meet by turning his hobby into a night job.

And now Yan Wushi miiiiight be falling in love with him.

(I want to start doing "Today I'm thinking abouts..." so that I'm at least writing SOMETHING, and anyway, idk if I'll be able to keep it up but I'll try. This is as far as I got in this one last night...I'm really liking it so far though)

[ughdontbeboring]

Highway to heaven

ok so uh…this is my first time posting something I’ve written, idk why this particular one keeps begging to be posted it’s antsy af and I hurt my own feeling, I wrote it monthsssss ago and just went back to add to it sooooo here yall go 😩 also no permission giving for anyone to reuse this in any form, but please reblog, like, leave nice comments all that good shit 😘

also written with PoC in mind (though the only mention of something specific is hair) and not really sure what warnings to tag so if any just let me know!

now let me go hide 😁😁😁

x

She stretched one of her arms out the window, Feeling the air rushed past it, pushing her arm up and down. Her smile completely contagious. She was the happiest she had been in the past few weeks and August knew it. He didn’t need to be around her that whole time to know, he always seen it the moment she saw him and her mind could process he was alive and back with her.

Since he came home less then 24hrs ago from his most recent mission, he hadn’t seen the smile drop from her face, he knew she could say the same about him.

Usually he drove but he couldn’t resist when she begged him to let her drive his super expensive white sports car. He obviously didn’t get to drive it much as he was always away, and when he was home he mostly spent it trapping her in their bed or away on a surprise vacation, like today. After hours of catching up and fucking her on every surface of their shared home he surprised her with a week away in a cabin. The cabin was his own and was well equipped to deal with anything that may arise, completely secured.

He knew he could be called back into work at any moment but he had good insight that he’d have at least a week where he wouldn’t have to leave her or the cabin. Maybe just for more champagne and her favorite dairy free ice cream depending on her mood during their stay but that was it about the only thing that could get August to leave.

Her laughter brought him back to the present moment. He smiled as he turned to her.

“Yes?”

“I asked if you like what you see Walker” she said throwing him a quick flirty look over her shoulder before focusing on the road. “Your staring at me all doe eyed” she giggled.

He laughed and shook his head, he was completely smitten and they both knew it. Anyone who spent time around them could see it was mutual. For as hard and cruel of a man as August was and seen as, she was his weakness. His weakness and strength actually, because he would do any and everything for her and that could be used in either way. She was the light in his life and she loved him completely, wholly.

“I love what I see actually” He answered staring at her again, watching her bite her lip as a smile took over her face. Her eyes caught his for a moment as she ran her hand down the side of his face, nails and fingertips leaving a tingling trail behind, as he stored this moment and everything about her in his memory, he would need it for when he left on this next mission. Bringing anything personal or that would lead anyone back to her was not an option for him. She was well aware of what he did and why she couldn’t call, only wait for his calls. He pushed it from his mind, praying it would be a while before he had to leave her again.

She hummed to the music as they noticed the traffic up ahead, must be road work August thought. His fingers tapped the car door as his arm lazily hung half in and half out. He noticed her head snap down causing her long box braids to sway. She looked toward her feet, her face confused when she looked back up ahead of them.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

Her stomach dropped and her skin turned to ice as she her eyes went back and forth between her foot and the traffic coming closer up ahead. She was unable to form words to tell him, her mind raced with what to do. Her face turned to him completely in fear, mouth slightly parted in a silent cry. August body went tense, rigid as a steel rod as he slowly grasped what he thought was happening, it can’t be.

The brakes

Someone cut the breaks

August looked up at the traffic in the distance that they were speeding towards, he had to push back the thought who and of when someone would have had the opportunity and focus on what was happening. His mind snapped out the fog when he heard her.

“August!”

She was trying to pump the break, willing it to start working as tears ran down her face.

“August it isn’t working!” She yelled.

August scanned the scene in front of them. Up ahead was dead stop traffic, and on their sides, woods and then metal railings dividing it from the other on coming traffic. There was no clear opening to drive into. The traffic would cause head on collision which had a high chance of death and the railing along the left sides of them also had a high death rate surprisingly. The trees and boulders of the right side weren’t an option either. He couldn’t eject them out of the car at this speed, especially with the traffic that’s following further behind them. Cars wouldn’t have enough time to stop if they didn’t notice their body’s on the pavement. Another sure death.

He looked up at her as her own eyes searched looking for an exit, an out point. Her face slowly succumbing to grief as she realized they had none. Every option a high chance of death with the speed they were going.

The knot in August stomach was a feeling he had never felt before. He had been so careful with her, to keep her out of the line of danger. Some how he had missed something and literally put her in the front seat of danger.

“Turn the steering wheel towards me and get down! By the time we make impact-“

“No!....No!” She yelled through her tears and sobs, she had realized what he was trying to do. He wanted to take the impact, he wanted his life on the line not hers.

“Please August! There must be another-“

“There isn’t!! Turn the wheel now!! We don’t have time!” He yelled as the traffic got closer. Their speed closing the distance fast.

Her eyes danced over his face for a moment, a dreadful feeling growing in her stomach and spreading through her body, it was completely unbearable. She couldn’t live life without him. It wasn’t possible, she loved him too much. She would die for him.

“I’m so sorry August, I love you” she said as she stared into his eyes, praying he seen everything she wouldn’t have time to say to him again. Her words were a wrecking ball into his very existence, it shattered his world.

His hands shot out to grab the wheel, as the understanding what she was saying hit him. It was too late though, she was turning the wheel and swinging the car in the opposite direction from what he instructed. If he tired to grab the wheel now he’d only cause the car to flip into traffic. He had no doubt her side would make impacted as the car swung and headed to slam into traffic.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, she wouldn’t. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw even if it meant watching his desperate fight to save her. His eyes wild and full of fear, tears falling freely as he looked back and forth frantically before they finally landed on hers. Defeated.

She was a lively young woman she loved life before August BUT life with August was unmatched. So when she smiled at August, the kind of smile that told him she had been happier in the last 4 years with him then she had been her whole life, he felt his blood go cold.

No. He couldn’t give up. Not ever, especially not when she smiled at him like she was willing to lose it all to save him. She already saved August everyday of his life since he’s meet her. Saved him over and over again without even knowing it. When she snuggled into his chest late at night, barely awake, running her fingers through the lite fur of his chest hairs and lazily kissing the same spot she saved August, save him from night terrors of all the horrible things he’s done. When they swam naked in the Caribbean ocean off a secluded beach on that one vacation early on in their relationship and her wet body pressed into his begging for more kisses under the moonlight she saved him from ever wondering what life without love was like. What could life ever be without her? That kinda of world didn’t make sense to August.

August grabbed at her to pull her closer to his side, but her seatbelt prevented him from shielding her body with his when they felt the impact and then instantly the loud crash and breaking of glass completely over taking his senses before everything went black..

part 2 unknown

[vagrantblvrd]

AU where Castle buys The Old Haunt and realizes a few months down the road one of the bartenders has a side job of Solving Crimes?

“I’m sorry, what was that, Castle?”

And Castle, okay, is like.

“I was surprised too, but if you don’t believe me, just ask him.”

In which the “him” in question is the guy waiting in an interrogation room because a couple of uniforms checking out reports of gunshots found him standing over the body and also Castle got a phone call and anyway.

“Huh.”

And then shenanigans in which Kevin Ryan sort of kind of works for Castle???

(“You totally do, I sign your checks, and also there was the whole...thing about new management back when I bought the place and you call me ‘Boss’ when I walk in and - “)

He also used to be a cop until Reasons and now tends bar and the things about crime solving on the side because friends and friends of friends and also random people have heard about him, and really, you know. It’s more of a hobby.

“A hobby.”

Kevin grins, all sunshine and flowers and Esposito is slowly, so slowly, losing his shit because Kevin Ryan is sweet, polite. The kind of guy everyone likes. Beckett likes him and they just found about about him an hour ago.

(But he’s a little shit to Esposito.)

“Yeah, I mean. Some people knit, I, uh. Do this?”

Like the man doesn’t know how he got into the whole solving crime by moonlight gig.

“Well, I mean. That’s a sometimes thing. Usually I’m tending bar at night.”

>:((((((((((((((((((((((((((

And on and on and maybe, idk, there’s a whole...werewolf thing in there too because you know me and werewolves, right?

Kevin had problems adjusting after being bitten on a case – “It’s a whole story, I wouldn’t want to bore you,” but he’s got a handle on it now, and anyway.

Kevin and his life of tending bar at The Old Haunt, Solving Crimes, and the whole being a Werewolf deal, and he’s like, it is what it is, you know? (Alternatively, “Life in the big city, never a dull moment!!1!” like Kevin hasn’t lived there all his life, and also what does that even mean, and is he trying to say the werewolf thing is just something that happens in New York? Is he???)

But also the thing where he’s having the best damn time fucking with Detective Esposito and also flirting and poor Esposito just doesn’t know what the hell is going on?

And then there’s the time they have to Kiss For Great Justice – or, okay, to avoid getting caught by some baddies and anyway, such a hardship, you know?

Plus, Kevin with his werewolf strength just manhandling Esposito – totally not something Esposito would like to experience again in a different setting – and anyway.

That was a thing that happened, and no, Castle, Esposito will not go into detail so just stop taking notes.

(Kevin off to the side, though? Thinking about it.)

And then, idk, some Thinking and Kevin gets a P.I. license – makes sense to do it since he’s got all these people coming to him for help and anyway, yes.

Montgomery is like – “Not only do we have Castle helping out on cases, but now there’s a P.I.?”

And Kevin’s like “Only sometimes, though?” like that makes it better, but he’s a damn good bartender and Montgomery’s like, maybe if I drink enough I’ll forget about all of this and also it will become someone else’s problem</i> because if ever there was a reason to drink it would be Beckett and her team and anyway, shenanigans.

Castle lets Kevin turn part of The Old Haunt’s basement into space for the P.I. gig – files and such. Boring paperwork.

Sometimes he meets with clients upstairs in the bar – before the place opens up for the night or whenever, and Castle is just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about it because what mystery writer doesn’t love a good P.I. story?

Also, also, later in the Nikki Heat series a P.I. shows up who lives to ~torment Ochoa and make his life miserable and anyway?  (Kevin’s like :DDDDDDDDDDDD about it because of course he is.)

(Plus maybe there’s some charity cause around Halloween or whatever with a short story about a werewolf P.I. - come on, Elrod’s got the vampire P.I. in prohibition-era Chicago, why shouldn’t Castle have modern day werewolf P.I.?)

ANYWAY.

Yes.

Esposito is like >:(((((((((((((( whenever Kevin’s cases and theirs line up and Beckett sticks Kevin with him – “At least yours knows proper police procedure/protocol, Esposito!” and also “Do you really want to trade, Esposito?” because they love Castle, of course they do, and yet.

Doesn’t matter though, because Shenanigans still happen.

(And, okay. Kevin’s helpful and also saves his life a time or two – “I mean, I didn’t know we were keeping score?” and there are times it’s nice to have someone to talk to, like on stakeouts and such.)

Plus, it’s always kind of hilarious watching the Big, Tough Guys zero in on Kevin as the ~weak link and then running into the brick wall of his werewolf constitution?

And also Kevin and Esposito sparring together not long after they meet and Beckett keeps sticking the two of them together and Esposito is like, yeah, yeah, sure. Guy says he was in narcotics, mentioned doing a hefty stint undercover before everything went to hell, but just look at him! Definitely got bullied in school, you know?

So sparring and Kevin all “If you insist,” and Esposito being like “Wait, no, I - “ because Kevin’s smirking and he has a bad feeling about things, and also Esposito suddenly remembers how Kevin put that guy who charged him on the ground in nothing flat, didn’t even break a sweat doing it. Which. The guy in question was easily twice Kevin’s size and -

Anyway.

The sparring matches early on where Esposito learned Kevin can handle himself and also that cold showers are a lifesaver, y’know?

Also the thing with all the flirting and whatnot and at some point Esposito is like oh, no, he’s hot, but it’s a realization quickly followed by oh no, he wears sweater vests unironcially and however will he be able to reconcile the two?

And Kevin okay, standing there watching Esposito have these dual realizations – Esposito and his Night of Epiphanies brought on by too much to drink or a concussion and Kevin shows up after being drunk/concussion-dialed and anyway.

“Well, if I thought you’d remember this in the morning I’d have a suggestion that would take care of both those problems of yours, but since you are, what say you sleep it off/get that head checked.”

And then Kevin just being :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD the next day and Esposito has no idea why, but he’s rightfully distrustful of it, and anyway.

They figure it out in the end and all that good stuff.

(P.S. Castle gets Kevin a vest to wear when they’re going into Dangerous Situations that says P.I. or something along those lines? Kevin is like *eye-roll*, but not so secretly loves the thing because it makes Esposito *eye-roll* harder, and anyway, yes.)

[thecommonraven]

Why do you think Dylan wanted to be in a open relationship with Marco in season 4? I think you briefly mentioned before that you had some thoughts on that whole situation so I’m curious lol.

How funny that you should ask this right now because for the last week or so I have been actively wondering if i will ever be willing to post gif-sets for the two hallway conversations between Marco and Dylan in Moonlight Desires! I want to make them because i think the scenes are well done and incredibly well acted by both AR and JB but I also don’t want to deal with the obvious hate Dylan is going to get in the tags. The guy gets enough tag hate as it is in posts where he’s being perfectly sweet grade A boyfriend material, so I’m not sure I want to see what’s said on posts featuring his worst behavior. 

I’ve mentioned before that I believe Dylan when he says he loves Marco and that he doesn’t think an open relationship changes that in any way. I think it’s absolutely possible for people to be in open or poly relationships where deep feelings are shared an honored. Obviously, I also think that Dylan goes about this all the wrong way, and that probably even if he went about it the right way, it could never work with Marco specifically. 

Again, the writers couldn’t seem to decide how much or how little characterization they were going to give Dylan, so some of my thoughts are canon, others are pure headcanon and some more are based off what we know about Paige and the Michalchuk parents and what we can extrapolate from there.  We see that Rose and Jeff Michalchuk are parents with incredibly high expectations. Their pride/affection for their kids seems accomplishment based. To me, they read as aloof, imperious, unobservant and largely absent. Paige is petrified at the idea that her mom will need to come into school to talk about what happened with Mr Oleander. She is so clearly freaking out about Banting and wants to talk to her mom while she’s home for Thanksgiving and Rose won’t hardly let her get a word in edgewise. Jeff greets his son (who will soon be moving a hemisphere away) with a HANDSHAKE (HUG YOUR SONs people!) and a comment about how he needs a haircut. The fact that Dylan has literally just had a haircut but obviously not the short ~respectable haircut that Mr Michalchuk would like him to have kind of hammers the dynamic of their relationship home for me. I think the Michalchuk family crest probably reads “get good grades, be a high achiever, and make sure I never get a phone call from your principal. ever.” All of this is to say that while I think Paige and Dylan were allowed a remarkable amount of independence growing up, I do not think they were given much freedom.  We don’t see a ton of Dylan in season 4 prior to Moonlight Desires, but I think it’s pretty easy to see the ways that college life effects him. He’s ecstatic and goofy as he moves into the dorms. He and Marco are flirting and dancing in public at a party. He pretty immediately gets that taste of freedom that college can afford him, and then in KoP we see him backlash against having that freedom limited by being kept a secret from Marco’s family. (Again, I do think Dylan goes about this wrong. But also, I will never not be mad at this show for poorly representing the perspective of Dylan/Zane as the person being asked to erase their identity. but again with the “this belongs in a different post”). We see him show up late, and his hair grown long and unkempt, his clothing starts to fit poorly, and the car he “loves more than his sister” is left dirty. We learn in TEotH that after MD, Dylan transfers to a school in Montreal which means two things: he didn’t get drafted in his first year of NHL eligibility and he probably won’t get drafted in his last.

This man is spreading himself too thin and he’s having the best time doing it. He’s drunk on college. He’s drunk on freedom.  

Now, unfortunately, Marco somehow gets rolled up in Dylan’s mind as someone who is a restriction on his freedom. Whether that’s because of KoP and not getting to be fully a part of Marco’s life type or restriction or not, idk. Maybe it’s actually that they don’t get to see each other often enough–with student counsel, downtown sasquatch, the blood drive, etc etc for Marco and with wild college life and hockey obligations, how often do these two really get to see one another? He loves Marco and he doesn’t want to break up, but somehow he isn’t feeling completely fulfilled. Maybe it’s that as a 19 year old in 2005, he hasn’t had a lot (maybe any) of long term monogamous gay relationships modeled for him. Maybe it’s that because he doesn’t fit the physical stereotype of a gay man, he feels like he needs to overcorrect somehow and find a way to “match” his identity better (I talk about this a little bit in the addendum on this post). Maybe he just develops a crush on Eric from Psych Class and doesn’t know that crushes outside of your relationship are normal and even healthy, but it doesn’t mean you need/have to act on them. Maybe it just comes down to that he wants to be more sexually creative/experimental than Marco is willing to be, but he doesn’t want to break up over it. I think he and Marco are pretty comfortable joking/teasing about possible flirtations or attractions with other guys (the headcanon about Craig in that linked post, Marco saying that the best thing about playing euchre with Dylan and his hockey team is that he’s playing it with Dylan’s hockey team) and from there Dylan kind of thinks...’just kidding...unless?’ 

Either way, Marco and Dylan both seem to think their relationship is in a good place where it is ready to take on a new challenge. Dylan thinks they love each other enough that they can successfully navigate opening things without it impacting their feelings for one another. Marco thinks they love each other enough that he can finish high school early and they can move in together. These dummies absolutely love each other, but damn do they need to work on their communication if they are so clearly in two different places like this. 

AND SPEAKING OF WORKING ON THEIR COMMUNICATION. 

Dylan’s first line of the episode, as he drives Marco to school in that “wash-me”-ass car is “So, you’ll call before you come over for the party?” I know others over the years have taken that line as Dylan trying to keep tabs on Marco so that he can sneak around behind his back, but that’s never how I read that line at all. I think the call is when he plans to talk about opening things up. Maybe he’d already chickened out about having that discussion that very morning (did Marco sleep over at the dorms last night? Or does Dylan leave school just to pick him up and drive him to class?) But while I think that Dylan is potentially having difficulty expressing to Marco what he wants from their relationship, I do not find it believable that this man is actively cheating. 

As previously discussed (also in the linked post) Dylan is a bad liar! He smiles too much and avoids eye contact. You just cannot convince me that this man lingering to get 5 more seconds of face time has already hooked up with Eric from Psych Class.  Okay, this got incredibly long and went in about a million directions, so I apologize if it only makes sense inside my own ping-pong game of a brain. 

[whumpinggrounds]

Jasper Falls

earlier this week when i was trying to work on something for LCJ, my brain said what about instead we do THIS

so here we are??? idk what this is yet but i have the sinking sense it is the tip of a very large iceberg.

CW: collapse, referenced lab whump, nonbinary whumpee, semi reluctant/incompetent caretaker, exhaustion, uhhhhh idk what else lmk if i forgot something :)

“Jasper?”

The kitchen is silent. Wilder’s actually not sure why he woke up, but now that he is blinking into awareness, he wants to check if Jasper’s in bed. There’s no reply yet, and Wilder wonders if they’re asleep. He hopes so, but he can’t help doubting. He’s been here for weeks, and somehow has only seen Jasper asleep a handful of times. “Jasper?” he calls again, a little bit louder. Once more, there’s no response. Cautiously, Wilder props himself up, peering around the room.

This late, the moon provides the only illumination in the dark room, but the light pouring in from the high windows is enough to show Jasper’s cot by the door. It’s empty, blankets folded with machinelike precision at the bottom. Biting his lip, Wilder considers for a moment rolling over and going back to bed. There’s more than enough reason for him to ignore Jasper’s absence. He’s tired. He has to be up early in the morning. Judging by the angle of the moonlight through the windows, it’s the middle of the night. Even Master Aeron must be asleep at this hour.

Yet apparently, Jasper is not. It could be nothing. It’s probably nothing. Even if it’s not nothing, it’s none of Wilder’s business…but something in Wilder’s stomach is bothering him. He can’t shake the feeling that something might be wrong. Lying back down, he waits there for a moment, wondering if he could sleep even if he wanted to, and if he should try. Then he heaves an unheard, long-suffering sigh.  

Groaning, Wilder hauls himself out of bed.

On sleepy, stumbling feet, Wilder makes his way to the kitchen doorway. The dining room beyond is dark, but the moon is bright enough to illuminate the hallway, so he forgoes a torch as he creeps towards the lab door. On every side loom fathomless shadows, and the cold stone beneath his feet is enough to make Wilder shiver and think longingly of his blankets. Still, he edges toward the door. It’s a bizarre, half-asleep whim, but he can’t shake the feeling that Jasper needs him.

At the barest touch of his fingers, the heavy steel door to Master Aeron’s laboratory swings open without a sound, doubtless thanks to Jasper’s continuous oiling. Not for the first time, Wilder finds himself reluctantly, profoundly grateful for his counterpart’s obsessive devotion.

Inside the lab it’s dark, all flames extinguished. The moonlight silvers everything, from the stone floor to the glassware lined up on the heavy oak tables. In some of the vials, liquids change color, bubbling and swirling in the semidarkness. Wilder glances at them covetously, out of the corner of his eye. Then he wrenches his gaze away. He’s on a mission right now.

Behind the first table, there’s nothing, but Wilder can see that beyond the second, there’s a dark lump stretched out across the floor. Pulse rate picking up, Wilder steps around the second table’s bulk and finds Jasper sprawled across the stone, limbs splayed around them as if they’ve fallen from a great height. Heart in his throat, Wilder leans down to take Jasper’s should in his hand and shake them gently. “Jazz? Hey, Jasper, you okay?”

It feels like an eon before those brown eyes crack open. When they do, Wilder swallows at the depthless exhaustion he sees there, the way their face remains slack and sallow, no life animating their features. The slitted eyes blink a few times, never opening more than halfway, and even when Jasper’s gaze settles on Wilder, their focus remains hazy, indistinct. Wilder’s heart sinks, seeing them so desperately weak.

“You can’ be in here.” Jasper’s words are so slurred, they hardly sound like speech. “Needa…stay out…”

Setting his jaw, Wilder shakes his head. “Not gonna happen. Jasper, you need help.”

“No’…not fr’m you.”

Wilder grits his teeth and tries to pretend that doesn’t bother him. “I’m the only one here,” he reminds Jasper, keeping his voice level, calm, businesslike. “Now c’mon. Let’s get you up off this floor and into your bed.”

“Leave…leave me.” Jasper is clearly trying to sound authoritative, but at the best of times, that’s a losing game. Their current position, limp-limbed with their cheek pressed to the floor, doesn’t help much. “Can…c’n handle myself.”

Wilder crouches down beside them, rests one hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “I’m here, though. You don’t have to do that.”

For a moment, Jasper is stone still, and Wilder gets to look at the stunned expression on their face. Then they shut their eyes, block him out. Turning their face fully into the floor, Jasper draws in a few hitching, unsteady breaths. The sound echoes off the floor.

“Okay,” they say finally, just when Wilder is about to remove his hand from their shoulder and try another tactic. Their voice is little more than a whisper, but at least it’s coming steadier now, and clear. “Help me up.”

Relief lightening his limbs, Wilder glances critically over Jasper’s prone position. “Right. Can you roll over on your own, or do you maybe want some help with that?”

Another unsteady, amplified breath, as Jasper faces the ground once more. “Help,” they grit out, eyes sliding away from Wilder’s inquiring gaze. Even in the dim moonlight, Wilder can see the flush in their cheeks. It makes him feel tenderly towards his companion, though Wilder isn’t sure why. Then again, nothing about his soft spot for Jasper makes sense.

“I’m going to count to three, and then I’ll roll you over, okay?”

Jasper makes no reply, but Wilder can see them gritting their teeth again, as if in anticipation of pain. It only strengthens Wilder’s resolve to be gentle.

“Okay, that’s one, and two, and three…”

Slowly, Wilder slides one hand under Jasper’s shoulder, and the other under their hip. Every movement considered and careful, he lifts them up and then adjusts his grip to let them down gently onto their back. They sigh as he does, a long release of air that Wilder knows is relief. Pulling back, Wilder pauses, eyes stuck on Jasper’s left arm.

There, in the crook of their elbow, previously hidden where it was pressed against the floor, is a deep, mottled bruise. It’s visible even in the unlit, nighttime darkness of the lab. Taking Jasper’s bicep gently in one hand, Wilder uses the other to follow the vein, suspicion confirmed by what he finds. Right in the crease of the elbow is a puncture mark. Wilder catches his breath. Glancing up, he finds Jasper looking pointedly away, blush once more giving away their shame.

“Master Aeron took your blood?”

He hates how confused his voice sounds; how clear it is that he doesn’t have any idea how this world works. Jasper shrugs as best they can, flat on their back on the ground, except that it looks more like a defensive hitch of their shoulders than the dismissal it’s meant to be.

“He needed it for a potion.”  

Biting his lip, Wilder nods, wondering if this is really something he should be agreeing with. Not that Master Aeron shouldn’t have access to the material he needs, but…but he’s clearly left Jasper much too weak. “How much did he take?”

“Don’t know.” Now Jasper is struggling to prop themselves up on trembling arms, and Wilder suppresses a sigh. All they need right now is for Jas to slip and concuss themselves when they hit the ground again.

“Just – here.” Once more, he slips a hand under Jasper’s back, this time lifting his fellow apprentice up slowly to a sitting position. “Let’s hang out here for a second, okay? Don’t want you to get lightheaded again.”

In response, Jasper just mumbles indistinctly. Taking a quick peek under their mop of long, curly blonde hair, Wilder notes with a wince that their eyes are squeezed shut. “You feeling sick? Dizzy? Talk to me, Jazz.”

“Don’…fucking…call me Jazz,” Jasper spits. They’re trying to sound angry, but their hands are in fists pressed against their thighs and their arms are shaking all the way up to their shoulders. They’re hanging on by a thread, that much is clear.

Sitting back on his haunches, Wilder considers the trembling figure in front of them. With a few small adjustments, he sets Jasper up so they’re leaning against the leg of one of the big oaken tables. Then, Wilder straightens and slips away, back down the hallway. He leaves the lab door open just a crack behind him.

In the kitchen, Wilder grabs one of the little clay cups from underneath his cot and scoops some water out of the bucket by the stove. Long, careful steps carry him back to the lab, and distantly, he’s proud of himself for not spilling a drop.

When he squats down next to Jasper once again, he wonders for a minute if they’ve dropped back into unconsciousness. Their head is tipped back, their arms slack at their sides. Closer examination, though, reveals their brow is knit, and each breath comes with forceful focus. Far from unconscious, they’re fighting to stay awake. Shaking his head, Wilder takes their hand, squeezes it lightly. Slowly, their eyes flutter open.

“You came back?”

“Of course.” Wilder smiles at Jasper, and they just stare back at him, expression still blank of anything but mild confusion. “Got you some water. Here.”

For a long moment, Jasper just stares at the cup in front of them. When they reach out to take it, they do it with both hands, and still, water sloshes over the rim. Brow furrowed with focus and determination, Jasper brings the cup to their lips and takes a few small sips. Some of the tension smooths out of their face, and Wilder is unaccountably relieved.

Glancing up, Jasper gives them a strange, unreadable look, and that’s when Wilder realizes that without really thinking about it, he’s tucked in next to them, lending an extra surface to lean against. Deciding to stick it out, he shoots them a small smile, and is rewarded when they look away, corners of their lips tugging up.

They drink the rest of the water slowly, savoring it. When they’re finished, Wilder takes the cup. “I’ll put this back. Give you a second. When I get back, we’ll get you on your feet.”

Jasper nods their acquiescence, but when Wilder ducks back in the door, he finds them swaying erratically at the edge of one of the tables, clinging to it for dear life as they try to force themselves up all on their own. “Jazz! I mean, shit, sorry, Jasper, whatever.” Wilder darts forward, slinging one arm around their waist to help them stabilize. “Jasper, you shouldn’t wait until I’m out of the room to try standing.”

His tone is meant to be only gently chiding, but Jasper looks sharply down and away, avoiding his gaze. “Sorry,” they rasp, and in that single word, in their weary, desolate voice, is the most emotion they’ve shown all night. Their tone is thin with exhaustion, on the edge of defeat.

Staggered by their vulnerability, intentional or not, Wilder takes a moment to respond. “No…um, no, it’s okay, Jasper. Just, I don’t want you to fall again.” Jasper nods dully, and Wilder heaves a sigh. He needs to get them into bed. They both just need to get to bed. “Can you put your arm around my shoulders?”

Wilder is a few inches taller than Jasper – 5’8 to the blonde’s 5’6, probably – so he keeps his grip around their waist tight as he helps them toward the lab door. He doesn’t trust the arm loosely wrapped around his neck to support Jasper if their legs give out, and their stumbling, rubbery gait seem more and more likely to end in a fall, with each step they take together.

When they clear the threshold of the lab, Jasper stops, swaying in place, so unsteady on their feet they almost drag Wilder over. “Needa shut the door,” they remind Wilder. With one hand, Wilder pulls it shut carelessly – a little too carelessly, as it turns out. The steel door meets the frame with a muffled bang, and Jasper flinches at the sound.

It startles Wilder too, and they wince, hoping that Master Aeron didn’t hear it in his chamber. “Sorry.” He’s not used to the weight of the lab door, the swing of it. That’s not his fault. Still, as they wait there, hanging in the tense silence of the early morning, the guilt bubbles up fast in Wilder’s gut. “I’m sorry.”

Jasper makes no reply, just stares into the dark hall, not breathing.

The apprentices wait, trapped in the hallway in front of the laboratory door, but moments pass and no black cape swirls out of the shadows. Master Aeron’s voice doesn’t ring through the hall, and the old man’s glaring yellow eyes don’t advance down the corridor towards them. Letting his breath out in a gust, Wilder starts nudging Jasper forward again and, pliable as a child, they go.

It’s a journey of a few steps down the hallway, through the dining room, to the kitchen, where, thankfully, Jasper’s bed waits for them just on the inside of the door. Jasper is still wobbling on their feet, but Wilder could release them here, let them navigate on their own the way to their cot.

Instead, Wilder helps Jasper down to a sitting position on the edge of their bed. Bearing up their weight as Wilder helped them down the hall has only made him feel more protective of Jasper, especially because he felt the way they trembled against him. Now he watches for that shiver, sees it in Jasper’s fingers as they rest their hand against the bed. While they take on the laborious work of swinging their legs up onto the bed, Wilder picks up the blankets at the end of the cot. He only blushes a little as he drapes the fabric over Jasper.

In all the dim kitchen, the most moonlight falls squarely on Jasper’s voice. If it were someone else, Wilder would worry that the light might keep them up, but Jasper is so exhausted that Wilder doesn’t think an army bugler could keep them awake right now. Instead, all the moonlight does is cast their features in sharp pale relief, so he can see the guarded expression on their face as he, well. As he tucks them in.

“Why’re you doing this?”

The question is flatly posed, all emotion stripped away. Still, the words themselves reveal more of Jasper than the other apprentice would probably like. For his part, Wilder shrugs.

“You needed help.”

“Why’d you even come looking?”

“You weren’t in your bed.”

“Why do you care?”

Frowning, Wilder considers the question for a moment. “I guess…I don’t know. I didn’t want you to be hurt. I…” He shrugs, decides to take the leap. “I like you, Jasper.”

Jasper turns their face away, expression impassive. When they speak, their voice is a desperate attempt to be cold. It sounds more like a plea. “You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t like me. I don’t like you. You’re just…you aren’t…”

Aren’t worthy? Aren’t useful? Aren’t good enough at magic? Jasper has intimated as much before, but tonight, with the cold revealing moonlight on the both of them, Wilder has insight that he didn’t before. Tonight, the harsh words don’t get to him the way they usually do, mostly because he thinks he understands something that Jasper has been trying desperately to hide.

“But I don’t believe that,” he tells Jasper, even though he knows the other apprentice hasn’t yet said all they meant to say. “And I don’t think you believe any of that, either.”

So, why do you keep saying it? Why are you so mean to me? The questions hang, unspoken, in the air between the two. Jasper just shuts their eyes, blocking out the moon, and Wilder, and whatever it is they refuse to say.

“All right.” Wilder’s voice is soft. “All right, Jasper. Get some sleep.”

They wait until he’s almost across the room, and then when they speak, their voice is so quiet Wilder almost, almost misses it. “Wilder?”

“Yeah?”

“You can, um. If you want, I mean, you can…you can call me Jazz.”

Across the room, in the shadows, Wilder puts a hand over his mouth to cover his smile. “Okay then, Jazz.” He makes sure his voice sounds warm.

Okay.

[owillofthewisps]

portraits hung in empty halls - part one

notes: fun fact i am about ten times more nervous about writing jaskier than i am about geralt, idk why! also daylights saving time is a farce and a personal attack on me, a humble woman trying to not have a destroyed sleep schedule.

rating: still teen, somehow!

pairing: geralt of rivia/female reader

word count: 3.5k

prologue

there is an odd little portrait tucked away in an alcove. at night, the canvas lies empty. most never notice it.

the Witcher does.

The sun sets, and you rise.

The silk sheet that shrouds you slips to the floor. In the dim glow of the candlelight, it glimmers like snow in the moonlight, the creamy white of it cooled to prismatic ice. You leave it puddled on the stained wood floor. You pad barefoot to the washbasin, adjusting to the lively hum of the inn, to the jolt of noise after so long without. It is never an easy transition.

The cool water trickles down your neck as you splash your face, the droplets rolling over your bare skin like an early spring rain, collecting in the dip of your navel before spilling onward. You turn to the tiny nook that shelves your clothing, your stiff joints moaning as they stretch and pop.

Rose, you think, spotting the verdant sprig of fresh mint placed carefully on the small stool. The bundle you’d pulled a leaf from yesterday had been wilting at the edges, the leaves curling in under themselves, like shy children covering their faces. You’ll have to make her something. Embroider her favorite gown, maybe, weave delicate little morning glories around the bells of her sleeves so they sway with her, as if she’s the dawn wind.

The mint tears under your teeth. It burns cold, searing away the heavy, oily coating that lays rotting on your tongue. You chew slowly, rolling the leaf through your mouth as you unfold your chemise and drape it across the stool.

Unwinding the thin golden chain looped messily around your neck and shoulders takes time. You tease at it, slip your fingers beneath the delicate, tangled thread of it. It is the daintiest tether you have ever seen, a golden, gossamer little thing, a strand of a spider’s web lit by the sun. You dump it onto the thin wood stand the washbin rests on.

Your earrings clink as you set them down next to the chain. It’s a relief to have them off, to let your lobes rest from the sharp pull of their hefty weight.

The homespun wool of your skirts rustles against the floorboards as you dress. You sweep the discarded jewelry into your palm; you dump it onto the silk sheet, watch as the gold sinks into the folds of the fabric.

You leave it all on the floor.

A few travelers tip their heads to you as you sweep down the inn’s halls. You sail past the small alcove that had so entranced Geralt last night, stepping carefully away from the shadowed niche.

Johan is waiting for you at the archway to the tavern. You’ve never thought of him as large, with his wiry frame, thin but strong, like a bowstring pulled tight, but he fills the archway. There’s still a faint hint of rot to him, something acidic tinting his strong, handsome features. You slow your pace, come to a halt before him, just shy of nose to nose, your skirts frothing over his feet like a wave breaking on the sand. The scowl knitting his brow deepens.

“If your intent is anything other than apology, save your breath.”

The flush flares into life. It spills crimson across his skin like wine, spreading wide. “Apologize?” Johan snarls. “When you’re the one who defended that mutant?”

“Did I not just say to save your breath?”

His hand flexes. You watch as his fingers curl into a fist, the knuckles gone bone white, and wait. There’s fear cut sharp into his visage, barely blanketed by the veil of anger on the surface.

“If you’ve nothing to say,” you tell him, “please move.”

That fist of his tightens again, his knuckles a ridge of mountains. The tendons in his jaw cord. “The Witcher cannot stay.”

“He paid his coin, just like the rest.”

Johan’s jaw works. “Stubborn bitch.”

“Careful,” you say, and there is crackling frost in your tone, winter come early. “I won’t tell you to save your breath again.”

He considers you, those green eyes burning incandescent, all sparking St. Elmo’s fire. Johan has often reminded you of a dog with a bone, setting his teeth into the marrow of his irritant and worrying it until he breaks it.

“Move,” you say, pleasantly enough, but with that ice still threaded through your voice. “Malinka’s expecting me.”

Johan lingers in the door frame for a moment more, a shadow of a threat, but he steps aside. You brush by him without a care; if you clip him with an elbow, well, he should have moved further. He’ll just add it to the list of wrongs you’ve done him, you think, and gods know that’s the least of your concerns.

The sounds of the tavern sweep over you. The clank of tankards, that thick hollow thud of wood against wood; the spitting crackle of the fire; chatter punctuated by uproarious laughter, rising to fill the rafters. It is a balm against you. Noise has long been something to steady yourself on.

You scan the room as you enter, and do not glimpse the Witcher’s broad shoulders. Nor do you see a hint of the bard. Your shoulders loosen, the tension melting out of them like winter yielding to spring. Malinka is behind the bar, her ebony curls flowing like a wild river to her shoulders, gleaming in the candlelight. She presses a quick kiss to your cheek as you join her.  Worried, you think. She is not alone in that.

“Ale!” Wren calls from the end of the bar.

“Coin!” you retort, sashaying over to him and leaning against the pitted wood counter. You pull a tankard from nearby, wincing as you flex your stiff fingers. They always take the longest to grow limber once more.

“Fair enough,” he laughs.

“Truly, Wren,” Annika says as she slides past with a tray of empty tankards. “Your mother would faint to hear your lack of manners. Tell me, how do the village girls stand your voice?”

“Yes, Wren, you’re lucky you’re charming when your mouth is closed,” you add.

“Beautiful and cruel, the both of you!”

You reach across the bar and pat his cheek. “Just a little,” you say with a laugh.

Annika snorts, passing you a tray. You nestle it into the crook of your hip and get to work.

The tavern only grows more lively, the gleam of light spilling from the doors cracking the darkness outside open. You whirl about, dipping around tipsy patrons, carrying plates of food high to drop them at tables.

It’s one of the busier nights, considering tomorrow is traditionally a day of rest, and you revel in the tumult, in the show of overflowing life. It keeps you light on your feet, moving until there’s sweat gleaming at the hollow of your throat. You dodge Elias’s hands with a laugh as you make your way back to the bar.

“So,” Annika says. “A Witcher, then?” Her slim hands move like water, smooth and flowing, pouring tankard after tankard between slicing off fat hunks of brown bread, still wisping steam even in the heated air of the tavern.

You sigh and duck beneath the bar to pull a few sausages from the small larder. “Yes,” you say. “Don’t you start.”

“There’s little for me to say.”

“And yet you so often say things anyway.”

She laughs. “True,” she says. “I’ve no quarrel with the Witcher, so long as he keeps his sword sheathed."

If Rose were here, that would not leave untouched - ‘which one,’ she’d say, her grin impish, her voice dropping into something sultry - but she is not, and you think you should try to keep thoughts like that from your head. At least until Geralt is gone, when there’s no danger to considering the thickness of his thighs and the knife of his golden gaze.

“I doubt he’s the one you should worry about,” you say, thinking of the way many men’s eyes had followed Geralt last night, malicious and hungry.

“Probably not.”

Someone calls to Annika from down the bar; she shoves the knife into your hand and gestures towards a loaf. You drop the sausages onto a nearby plate and start to slice the bread.

“I looked for you earlier. I didn’t think it would be so hard to locate such a pretty woman in the crowd.”

You glance up. The bard is smiling at you, his blue, blue eyes catching the light. You cast your gaze to the side, but Geralt is nowhere to be seen. Your grip on the knife’s handle loosens.

“I work nights,” you tell him, and if your smile is a little brittle, he doesn’t seem to notice. “Makes it hard to find me early. What can I get you?”

“Your name?”

“It’s a bit out of your price range, I think.”

He gasps, one hand flying to his chest. “Will you not take pity on a poor bard? How am I meant to write a song praising this inn and its lovely innkeeper?”

You arch a brow. “Why would you need my name for that, bard?”

He blinks. “Jaskier,” he tells you, and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s given you his name. “And because you are the innkeeper?”

“I’m not.”

“Are you certain?”

You stifle a laugh. “Quite,” you say, but then you take pity on him and give him your name. “Why did you think I was the innkeeper?”

“Ah,” Jaskier says. “You were...forceful, last night, not that Geralt was particularly forthcoming about it. Also the serving girl said you were.”

Betony, you think, following Jaskier’s long, nimble fingers as he gestures towards the far side of the tavern. Betony glances up just then, and from the cheeky grin she flashes, she’s unrepentant. It’s harmless enough, nothing worth even getting irritated over, so you blow her a kiss.

“I’m not,” you repeat. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’m not sure you could disappoint, love,” Jaskier says.

You fumble with your knife, the tip of it sinking into the wooden board beneath the sausage with a hollow thunk.

My love, Dymitr murmurs, his lips brushing against the curving shell of your ear.

“Isn’t that what you called me this morning?” Rose chirps. She swings over the bar in a flurry of crimson skirts and wraps an arm around your waist. She still carries the chill of the night air on her skin. She presses herself against you, lets you use her as an anchor against the wave pulling you under. “Aren’t bards meant to be inventive?”

Jaskier gapes.

“Be nice, Rose,” you say.

“Rose?” Jaskier says, “Funny, I took her for a bramble.”

Rose snorts. “Be careful not to be caught on thorns, bard,” she says. She tugs at her shawl, lets it flow from her shoulders to the crook of her elbows like a waterfall. It catches against you. “You were looking for the innkeeper? What is it you want from me?”

You sink your elbow into her side. Her curse is blistering; down the counter, Wren cackles at her creativity.

“She’s not the innkeeper,” you tell Jaskier, who is looking somewhere between distraught and combative. “Rose, will you please get more bread?”

She laughs, the sound like woodfire smoke, billowing out in slow, low tones. “I suppose,” she says. Rose dips away from you, giving your waist one last squeeze, and heads towards Wren.

“Gods, do all women here worship a trickster god?” Jaskier asks. “If not, you should consider it. I imagine most would excel.”

“Probably.”

“Is there a test I have to pass to get the innkeeper’s name? If it’s a physical one, can I have a champion? Geralt would do nicely at that.”

You pull the knife free of the board and set it to the side. Someone calls for ale; you sigh and pour a tankard of it. “You can play,” you tell Jaskier. “We’ll give you coin at the end of the night in addition to any earnings you may get from the crowd. That’s why you were looking for the innkeeper, yes?”

Jaskier sets his hands on his hips, his long fingers drumming against the fine material of his clothes. “Do you just use some title other than innkeeper to confuse people?”

“Malinka’s the innkeeper,” you say, nodding towards her. She’s laughing at a nearby table, men drawn in a knot around her, an unknowing queen speaking to her court.

“Right,” Jaskier says. “You just make all the decisions.”

“She listens to me, yes, when she chooses to do so,” you tell him.  I raised her, taught her as much as I could as best I could, and she tends to honor that, you don’t say, trapping the words behind the gate of your teeth. It would only bring questions.

He chews at his bottom lip, bites the flesh pinker still.

“You’ll be paid,” you say. “No tricks, not about that. For last night, too.”

You wonder if other inns see the value in Jaskier, not just in his talent, but in his ability to reassure. There’s little doubt in your mind that his music has soothed many a ruffled feather that Geralt’s presence has caused. From the tongue on him, though, you think he’s also caused his fair share of trouble, too.

“You are a treasure despite your company of treacherous women.”

“Go play, bard, before I change my mind.”

Rose reappears as Jaskier heads towards where the fiddlers usually sit, his lute cradled against his stomach. He’s already plucking at it, discordant notes being corralled into something musical, something pretty.

“Do you think they’ll stay long?” you ask.

She lifts a shoulder in a lazily elegant shrug. “Hard to say,” she says. “I’ve had rocks speak to me more than the Witcher did.”

“Rose.”

“I know,” she tells you, cupping your cheek. Her palm is warm and callused against your skin. “It will be fine. No sense in worrying unless it’s needed.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“It’s not,” she says sharply, all thorn instead of her usual soft petals. “Do not make the mistake of thinking that I do not have fear.”

Jaskier starts to play. The music blooms to life, unfolds delicate and sweet. It seems an odd choice for the rowdy tavern, but the melody is a haunting one, one that slips beneath your skin and hooks deep.

Rose pats your cheek. “Don’t fret,” she says, an echo of last night. “Go help Betony, she’s such a distracted little thing.”

You snort, but there’s more than a measure of truth to it, so you wipe your hands free of breadcrumbs and pick up a nearby tray. Betony is half on Delythe’s lap. She’s plucking at Delythe’s thick braid, coiling it around her wrist and giggling. For her part, Del seems tolerant, the grin on her lips fondly indulgent.

“Betony,” you say.

“You’re no fun,” she says, but she gets to her feet, tugging on Delythe’s braid and pressing a kiss against her cheek. Her lip paint leaves a mark the color of a bruise, deep plum. The two of you gather empty tankards and plates, stacking them high on the tray. With Jaskier playing, everyone seems to fall into a rhythm. You duck between patrons with delicate precision. Each step is practically a dance, Betony matching you as the two of you dash around.

You can feel the night lengthening, can sense the moon tracing a path across the velvet sky. The moon always seems brighter as winter creeps forward. As if the coming snow reflects the light the moon sheds, makes it a disc of shining ice.

Elias catches you in a dance or two between servings; Wren pulls you along for a quick jig when you duck into the back room for supplies. Malinka sweeps you off your feet as well, laughing as she leads you before she twirls you into Betony’s arms. Jaskier’s music rises and falls, a piper’s call to the crowd’s mood. You let it envelop you.

Geralt appears as it grows late enough to perhaps be called early. Patrons are starting to stagger home, though there are a few gatherings tightly knit around tables, still nursing their tankards. Even with fewer present, there are still murmurs that follow the Witcher, little whispers that haunt his steps like an angry wraith. It makes your chest tighten. How quickly people turn on what they don’t understand. On what they don’t even try to understand.

He seems unbothered by it. You think again of stone, of the jutting mountain peaks, for Geralt’s face could be that of a statue’s. He has the jawline for it. Mostly, though, he has the smoothed expression of a marble bust, one just shy of human, as if the artist couldn’t quite settle on mood, caught between emotion and emptiness. It feels a false face. A shield, a barricade for humanity’s siege against his very presence to break upon.

You should leave, let one of the others serve him. You know that. Betony retired home earlier, but Malinka is just in the store room. Rose is not far, either. You should call for them. You know that. But Geralt finds you behind the bar, his amber eyes like firelight, and you stay.

The tankard clanks against the wood as you set it down in front of him. “Would you like something to eat?”

“If there’s something available.”

“I wouldn’t offer something I am unable to give.”

He pauses, the tankard halfway to his mouth, and you cannot look away from his parted lips. Your hands twist in the wool of your skirts, draw the fabric tight against your fingers. “Yes, then,” he says. His eyes flicker, and you think that is not what he wanted to say, that he has swallowed something down.

The plate is a simple one. Geralt seems a man who consumes only to continue, who does not yearn for flavor on his tongue. You keep it to a thick slice of brown bread and some salted meat. You wipe down some tankards as he eats, caught between the compulsion to stay and the whispering nerves that beg you to flee.

“What brings you here?”

Geralt pauses again, those golden eyes lifting to you. You feel heat rise in your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you say. “It’s habit to chat with patrons.”

He grunts.

You bite at your lip and scrub harder at the tankard, twisting the old cleaning cloth around your fingers until it is cutting into your flesh, until it almost hurts.

“There’s a village to the north,” Geralt says. “It has rumors of a beast, and they have coin. This inn is the closest. The village is small.”

“And by that,” Jaskier says, sliding onto the stool next to his friend and gesturing wildly, “he means it is a hovel of a town, more a collection of houses than a village.”

“I see.”

“Luckily,” Jaskier says, leaning forward until you think he will overbalance, “that means we have found ourselves here. It is a charming inn, innkeeper-who-is-not.”

“It’s just an inn.”

“An inn with good ale and food, and most importantly, appreciative crowds.”

“It’s just an inn,” you repeat, but from the way Jaskier’s smile lights up, he can hear the laughter hiding just beneath your tongue.

Jaskier starts weaving a tale for you, his hands fluttering about as he speaks, his voice falling into a cantering cadence that lulls you into the story. Geralt eats in silence, grunting here and there as Jaskier tries to reel him into the story. The bard elbows him once, lightly, and the withering look Geralt gives him could rust a sword.

It is not long after Geralt finishes eating that the two men rise. It is truly late now, the time when nocturnal creatures begin to slink back to their burrows, the time when the starlight goes cold and strange.

“Good night,” you tell them.

Jaskier chirps something back to you, but his words are washed away by the weight of Geralt’s gaze on you. It peels at the layers of you, cuts through to the bone, until all of you is laid bare before him. Your fingers tremble.

They tremble still when you trace their path to the hallway, pulled after them like a pebble caught spinning in the tide. You catch yourself before you follow them further. From your place just beyond the door, you hear Jaskier heave a sigh.

“Geralt,” the bard says, and you’ve never heard a tone that sounds like someone putting their hands on their hips in reprimand before, “will you hurry up? The painting will be there when it’s not a time when even the gods are asleep.”

The bite of your fingernails startles you. They cut into your flesh, tiny sickle moons against the map of your palm, constellations amid the lined sky of your hand. There are footsteps, then, receding down the hall. They ring in your ears long after the men are gone.

Rose finds you sitting near the hearth, your knees tucked up against your chest.

“I’m frightened,” you tell her.

She kneels at your side, a priestess at your altar, her face turned up to you like a flower to the sun.

“I know,” she says.

She waits for sunrise with you, lets you gaze into the fire’s light in silence.

You feel it when daybreak approaches. You close your eyes and surrender to the dark, to the velvet night that lives behind your eyelids. It feels easier like this. Gods, you miss the sun.

The sun rises, and you set.

taglist: @fairytale07​ @stretchkingblog97​ @nonamejustshame​ @1950schick​ @sageandberries-png​ @peachy-aisha​ @msgeorgiarae​ @alwayshave-faith​ @bumblingandblooming 

[ofsleights]

            ✱ ╱ song joong ki + cis man + he / him / his ━ if you happen to find yourself stuck in tartarus, make sure you don't run into SHIN YO-HAN there. the THIRTY FIVE year old has made quite the reputation for themselves under their alias as HECATERUS, a CAPOREGIME OF DRUG DEALERS AND THIEVES for TITANS. while their enemies often describe them as doctrinaire and quarrelsome, their syndicate would say that they're highbrow and urbane. they DO NOT think that zane was murdered, but they'll be keeping that to themselves for now. ( the gentle click of italian leather shoes announcing his presence, dim lamp light illuminating his office at the early morning hours, dark hues dancing with curiosity and chaos, the windows of luxury vehicles kissed by heavy clouds of steam ).

            hi  again,  everyone  !  this  took  me ... forever  to  get  together,  and  is  probably  filled  with  useless details,  but  i’m  so  excited  to  introduce  yohan  to  everyone.  once  more,  i’m  kiva,  twenty4,  prefer  either  she / her  or  they / them  pronouns,  and  i  reside  in  the  eastern  tz  !  also  pls  don’t  roast  my  pinned  JNVCNVC  i  have  a  prettier  one  in  my  drafts,  but  i’m  saving  it  for  when  i  bring  my  second  chara  hehe.  that  being  said,  ‘  yohan,  you  bastard  !  ’  was  filmed  in  front  of  a  live  studio  audience.  😌

*   🃏   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂.

            name  :  dr.  shin yo-han.  nicknames:  went  by  sebastian  during  his  school  years,  rarely  called  han.  age  +  date  of  birth  :  35  +  june  10th,  1986.  moral  alignment  :  lawful  evil.  gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / hims.  place  of  birth  :  carnegie  jill,  new  york.  place  of  residence  :  tartarus,  california.  orientation  :  bisexual  biromantic.  occupation  :  caporegime  professor  of  game  theory.  nationality  :  korean - american.  ethnicity  :  korean.  languages  spoken  :  korean,  english,  japanese,  and  conversational  spanish.

*   🃏   𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈.

            —   when  one  hears  the  shin  family  name,  they  are  aware  of  who  they’re  about  encounter.  made  up  of  shin  cho - hee  and  shin  jin - hwan,  the  two  were  set  up  for  life  from  the  moments  they  were  born,  but  that  doesn’t  mean  that  they  didn’t  know  how  to  work  to  get  more  of  what  they  already  had.  with  the  best  colleges  on  their  resumés  and  the  amount  of  money  in  their  bank  accounts,  it  was  only  a  matter  of  time  for  them  to  meet  (  even  if  it  was  their  parents  who  set  up  the  meeting  ).

            —   they  turn  out  to  be  a  match  made  in  heaven  as  the  couple  are  both  ruthless  and  cunning,  with  desires  to  expand  their  families  fortunes.  cho - hee  and  jin - hwan  marry  in  a  lavish  ceremony,  and  not  even  five  years  later,  they’re  moving  to  new  york  city  to  take  their  companies  from  strictly  europe  and  asia  based  to  the  west.  the  company  grows  exponentially  within  a  few  short  years,  and  during  that  time,  they  have  their  only  child  yo-han.  

            —  yohan  is  a  child  that  fell  in  line  when  he  was  supposed  to  and  was  clearly  grateful  of  the  life  he  was  able  to  live.  attending  the  trinity  school  in  new  york  city,  yohan  was  afforded  the  best  education  that  money  could  buy,  so  it  was  no  surprise  that  he  graduated  with  high  marks.  the  only  downside  that  he  faced  was  the  lack  of  bonding  time  that  he  had  with  his  parents  (  as  they  were  often  too  busy  for  him  ),  but  when  soccer  games  continuously  got  missed,  dinners  were  often  had  alone,  or  field  trip  permission  slip  signatures  were  forged,  yohan  easily  grasped  that  he  was  essentially  on  his  own.

            —   college  acceptances  roll  out,  and  yohan  goes  off  to  study  economics  at  columbia  university.  an  honors  student,  yohan  does  well  as  he’s  expected  to,  and  although  they’ve  missed  most  of  his  life,  his  parents  are  able  to  brag  about  having  their  child  graduate  from  one  of  the  ivies.  academically,  yohan  appeases  his  parents,  going  on  to  study  economics  at  stanford  for  his  masters  degree  and  princeton  for  his  phd.  during  those  years,  yohan  develops  an  interest  in  game  theory.  while  he  was  good  at  beating  anyone  in  a  game  of  logic,  yohan’s  immense  knowledge  is  what  eventually  gets  him  into  trouble.

           —   while  getting  his  masters,  yohan  began  using  said  knowledge  to  start  counting  cards  at  casinos.  he’ll  lose  a  few  hands  here  and  there  to  make  up  for  his  big  wins,  but  of  course  it  doesn’t  take  long  for  him  to  start  getting  some  . . .  unwanted  attention.  forever  able  to  get  himself  out  of  trouble  with  a  bit  of  smooth  talking,  it  works  for  a  while  until  he  gets  the  attention  of  the  titans.  if  there  was  one  thing  about  yohan,  he  may  have  been  privileged  since  birth,  but  he  was  both  book  and  street  smart  . . .  maybe  too  much  for  his  good.  it  was  inevitable  that  yohan’s  abilities  to  get  what  he  wants  while  charming  the  pants  off  others  works  in  his  favor.

            —   by  night,  yohan  was  once  a  lowly  thief  himself,  greedy  fingers  taking  what  was  needed  and  executing  flawless  heists  where  they  were  in  and  out  in  record  time.  by  day,  he  was  soon  a  phd  student  which  then  turned  into  having  a  more . . . legitimate  job  as  a  professor  of  game  theory  at  a  local  university.  through  those  years  of  moonlighting,  yohan  moves  up  in  the  ranks,  and  has  now  taken  over  as  capo  of  the  drug  dealers  and  thieves.  (  this  was  bad  i’m  so  sorry  )

*   🃏   𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

a  piece  of  shit,  i’ll  be  the  first  to  admit  it.  he’s  a  one  and  done  kind  of  man  which  makes  him  sound  SO  bad,  but  he’s  just  casual  about  a  lot  of  things  he  does  in  a  romantic  light.

brash  !  straightforward  !  will  tell  you  you’re  stupid  to  your  face  in  the  form  of  :  ‘  are  you  dumb  ?  ’  and  he’s  not  asking.  

since  his  godly  alias  is  hecaterus,  basically  he’s  just  really  good  at  sleight  of  hand  !  which  is  why,  it  makes  sense  that  he’s  good  at  stealing  lol.  probably  teaches  the  dealers  a  thing  or  two  about  how  to  do  quick  transactions  and  the  like,  and  is  good  at  well  executed  heists.  five  minutes  or  less  is  the  goal.

at  most  he  probably  gets  along  with  his  cat  the  best  💀.  the  cat  doesn’t  even  have  a  name  they  just  vibe  in  his  fancy  apartment  together.

well  dressed  . . .  so  well  dressed  he’ll  make  you  cry  (  JOKE  ).  but  in  all  seriousness,  he’s  sharply  dressed  in  well  tailored  suits  or  at  least  well  tailored  button  downs  and  trousers  at  all  times.  hair  is  styled  off  off  his  forehead,  only  ever  down  at  home.  not  much  of  a  sneakers  man  unless  working  out.

probably  has  a  therapist  who  can’t  stand  him  because  he  doesn’t  open  up  and  answers  questions  with  questions.

*   🃏   𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳.

his  heavenly  companion.  maybe  this  is  kinda  silly,  but  basically  one  of  the  strippers  that  he  gets  along  v  well  with  and  idk,  they  vibe  whenever  he  comes  around.  usually  it’s  just  to  hang  out  and  get  a  drink  or  two,  he’ll  pay  them  well  for  literally  five  minutes  of  time  lol  bonus  points  if  they  spill  him  the  beans  about  customers  hehe.

damn  . . .  an  ex  !  i’m  thinking  they  got  really  serious  and  were  so  into  each  other  but  then  they  could have  found  out  what  he  does  really  or  they’re  from  another  syndicate  so  their  breakup  was  really  inevitable.

a  best  friend  !  someone  who  calls  him  out  on  his  shit  and  he  does  vice  versa.  they  get  along  too  well,  almost  bordering  on  the  line  of  siblings.  they  probably  bicker  like  siblings  too.

friends  with  benefits  kinda  situation.  simply  put,  they’re  there  for  one  another  when  they  need  to  relieve  some  steam  but  they  also  get  along  really  well.  someone  catching  feelings  . . .  👀.

crush  ?  idk,  someone  who  might  like  him  (  for  whatever  reason  )  but  it’s  too  damn  oblivious  to  notice  .

of  course,  connections  from  the  titans  !  positive,  negative,  neutral  . . .  hand  it  over  !  and  i’m  down  to  fill  any  wanted  connections  where  you  could  see  yohan  fitting  but  pls  let’s  plot  i’ve  waited  long  enough  !

[swiss-cheeze]

Hallelujah || Spencer Reid

I am, so terrified to post this simply because it’s ‘new’ and stuff idk.

Disclaimer: IM ONLY UP TO SEASON 2 OF CRIMINAL MINDS, I do know what happens later on revolving around Reid and IT DOES GET MENTIONED (drugs, the jail) however no detail gets put in due to me not actually knowing about it a lot.

Another disclaimer: the characters in this are Reid, you, Hotch, Gideon, Garcia, J.J., Morgan and Emily. Stuff from Reid’s ‘future’ gets told in this even tho there are different people on the team at that time but because I don’t know them I didn’t put them in there.

I hope that makes sense.

Requested: YES/NO Gender: none, they/them Warnings: talk of suicide/jumping off a building along with depression, loneliness. Description: Spencer is a little scared to show his partner of 3 and a half years to his work mates, that is, until his partner wows the team with their singing skills.

“Guys i just, i dunno…” Spencer sighed softly and stopped walking for what felt like the tenth time that night, the group sighed as they stopped with Spencer as he started pacing on the spot and ran his hands through his hair.

“Wonder Boy it's going to be okay, there's nothing to be afraid of” Garcia reassured Spencer for what would have to be the third time since they left the office.

“I-I know that but statistically speaking-” Spencer began, the team all seemed to give each other a look that told them the same thing.

“Nuh uh Pretty Boy!” Morgan interjected, the muscled man grabbed Spencer by his shoulders and started walking in the direction of the bar, “you have been on and off about this person for a month now, not telling us a single thing and then maybe a phrase or something and quite frankly i'm fed up with it” as Morgan opened the doors to the bar the group walked in with Spencer still standing out the front nervously chewing his nails and sent a frightened look to Morgan. Hotch sighed before turning to Morgan.

“I got this one, you head inside” the chief of the BAU spoke, he allowed Morgan to go inside before stepping out with Spencer, “what's gotten you so tight?” the man asked Spencer, “friend to friend, this isn't work.” the man concluded as he saw Spencer's mind racing.

“I’m scared, Hotch, and I'm not normally scared or-or fearful, yeah I've been to prison and gotten addicted to drugs and shot-shot multiple times but this…” Spencer sighed as he ran his hands through his hair again and paced back and forth, “but this is different, they really mean alot to me and have been with me through almost everything since i was in prison and they’ve been there for every and all breakdowns and moments,” Spencer took this moment to look at Hotch with reddened eyes, “i really love them you know? They,” Spencer sniffled as he smiled brightly, “they give me such a high that the drugs could never give me, they give me such a lightened feeling, such happiness that when i go home after a case i almost forget about the horrors i've witnessed that day and they remind me of the true happiness and love this world can give to certain people,” he took a breath as Hotch interjected.

“So why are you so scared?” Hotch asked as his hands rested on his hips, it was a simple question, and even with the ramble Spencer just spoke it took him a moment to come up with an answer.

“Because i just want you guys to love him as much as i do,” Spencer said with a soft smile as memories flooded his mind of the past 3 and a half years with you, “obviously not in the romantic way but-”

“Reid,” Hotch paused Spencer, the boy looked to his elder in a way a boy would look to his father after being told off, “this person, they make you happy, yes?” Hotch asked, Spencer nodded vigorously, “then you have not a thing to worry about” the man said with a faint smile, “as long as you’re happy, you aren't in prison and are off the drugs than thats all that matters to us, and the fact you have a partner just makes it better because then you can share that happiness with that person just like you said before, they make you feel something the drugs never could,” Hotch stepped forward and held Spencer on his biceps with a firm grip to keep the boy grounded, “so let's go in there and meet this person” Hotch finalised, Spencer nodded affirmatively and the pair walked into the bar one after the other.

“Finally!” Emily called as the team sat around a table with two empty seats, “so?” the girl asked as her and the rest of the team looked just as curious, “where are they?” she asked, Spencer breathed in and smiled as he checked the time.

“Two minutes more and they’ll be here,” Spencer said as he checked his watch.

“Oh so you made us get here early just so you could get pissed?” Morgan said jokingly as their drinks got to their table.

“Leave him alone Morgan it's his first time,” Gideon said with a chuckle as he took a swig of his beer.

“First time? What's that-” Spencer started to talk but got cut off when someone tapped the microphone. Everyone turned their heads to look to the stage, a man holding a folder was standing in front of the microphone.

“Hello! I would like to invite our next singer slash band up on stage; (Y/n) (L/n) and Micheal Herance!” the man smiled brightly as he clapped and you walked on stage with Micheal in tow behind you.

“You didn't tell us they were in a band!” Garcia exclaimed.

“I hope its not country,” Morgan deadpanned softly which made Garcia kick him under the table, when Morgan looked to Garcia with confusion she nudged her head over to Spencer who seemed to be glazed over, his eyes full of love and adoration as you and the other person tried to get ready quickly.

“They’re only small and do mostly covers but they’re really good” Spencer said with a smile as he grabbed his drink and took a sip. Micheal took his seat on the wooden stool with an electric guitar as you grabbed the microphone and cleared your throat.

“Hi,” you said softly, even if you’ve been doing stage shows for a little over a year, seeing all those eyes on you and your band still made you feel anxious, “we are two fourths of The Charmed Crosses,” you said with a chuckle, “this is a song i would like to dedicate to a special someone whom i hope has made i tonight,” Spencer wanted to jump up and down and scream to say he made it but he felt that would ruin the mood so he stayed put as he realised that the stage lights would be the things hindering your sight, “even if he isn't this is recorded so, Spencer Reid with three PhD’s, this one goes out to you my sweet.” The Team silently pat Spencer on the back as the boy blushed slightly with a smile.

“It's nothing, they do it all the time” Spencer said softly as he took a mouthful of his drink again and the opening notes to Hallelujah started playing from the guitar.

“Oh this is going to make me cry,” Garcia said softly as Emily and J.J. nodded in agreement, Gideon squeezed Garcia's hand, he didn't want to admit it but it was going to bring a tear to his eye too.

“Well I'd heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?” your voice drifted through the microphone as the Guitar chords struck itself within you and the crowd, “Well, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king! Composing Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” your voice drifted like soft wood and carried emotions that nobody else could try and carry, “Well, your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya” you took a breath as the guitar carried for a few notes, “She tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair! And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” the emotion in your words where one that couldn't be described as the team looked between you and the lovestruck Spencer, no way had this guy picked you, of all people, though it was possible it was slim. But it happened, “But baby, I've been here before, I've seen this room and I've walked this floor. You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya” these lyrics seemed to go out to Spencer in a way that wasn't one the team, your coworkers or the world would ever know, it was a thing for you two and you two only, “And I've seen your flag on the marble arch, and love is not a victory march!” this almost seemed to be a direct hit to Spencer, of his past dwellings, “It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” the song spread a shiver up Morgans spine that even he wouldn't be able to explain as he took a moment to look to Ried, his love struck baby brother had finally grown into a man, your voice was soft in the places it needed to be and became hard in others in a way one couldn't describe. Your voice drifted with the guitar and carried out the rest of the song, the emotion brought out made everyone in the room believe you wanted the whole world to hear you, but only one person could understand. See, this song was the song that had saved your life, as cliche as it was things had gotten too rough for you to handle a few years ago, the stress of a daily job and bills and rent was getting too much for you, and one night you decided to go to the roof of your apartment with the radio and you played it for a little bit, letting the songs go one by one. When you decided you had stalled enough you stood on the edge of the building and looked down before looking back up to the sky, “give me one good reason, give me a sign, give me anything” you had spoken, and that's when you really did feel something. A wind gushed around you and ruffled your clothes as it made your radio fall onto its back, you sighed softly as you went to pick it up, and as you did the song changed to Hallelujah, of course you had heard it before but this time it felt like someone was really listening. In that moment you had sat in front of the radio and listened to the whole song right through to the end, that's also how Spencer found you on that roof.

---

“You don't have to know you,” Spencer's voice called out from the stairwell as he leaned against the doorframe. You gasped softly as you tried to dry your eyes before the mystery man could see you.

“Don’t have to do what?” you asked the man as the sound of his footsteps came closer to you and soon sat on the edge of the building, his hands where in his pocket as his tie blew in the wind along with his hair.

“I saw you standing on the edge, and i heard you ask for a reason, a sign,” Spencer shrugged softly, “you seemed to have gotten it though” the man said with a small smile as he looked to the radio, you smiled softly as you looked to the radio in your hands and smiled.

“Yeah i guess so,” you let the radio play the next song as you sat next to Spencer, “so what’re you doing out here then? Thought the same thing?” you asked as Spencer scoffed and shook his head No.

“No, no I'm here because I like to look at the stars when I feel alone,” Spencer said as he looked to the sky. You did too, “whenever I feel sad, alone, depressed, or even suicidal. I come up here for refuge, I look up at the stars and I think to myself, ‘if they’re up there, then they must have sacrificed a lot to be there, burning, forever'” Spencer talked with honey in his voice and admiration. You looked at the mystery man with a small smile, “but by all means if that wasn't a sign enough and neither was I then go ahead” Spencer said with a smile.

“Yeah? And why shouldn't i?” you asked as you stood up on the roof and started swinging your arms, “besides the song, and you” you stated.

“Because that is a lot of paperwork for a department to file for one person” Spencer said as he too stood up and walked towards you. You nodded.

“Well, consider my suicidal thoughts diminished,” you said with a small smile.

“Good” Spencer said as he walked to the staircase again, you turned and was disappointed to see him leaving so soon.

“What's your name? I don't believe i’ve seen you in the apartment block before,” you asked, it was a kind enough question, a name.

“I just moved in,” Spencer said as he stopped at the staircase, “my name is Spencer Ried, i have three Phd’s, if you ever need me im only ever two doors down from yours, number 15, either that or down at the BAU”

“You’re a profiler” you stated.

“Correct,” Spencer answered though he didn't move.

“So what’d you get from me?” you asked with crossed arms.

“You’re suicidal?” Spencer questioned playfully.

“You know what i mean,” you said with a sigh.

“Life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone” Spencer said with a smile, “a good friend of mine said that, he's a writer,” Spencer said with his hands still resting in his pockets.

“Brilliant” you said, it was half sarcastic and half...human.

“Goodnight…” Spencer trailed off as he didn't know your name.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)” you said with a smile.

“Goodnight (Y/n) (L/n)” Spencer said.

“Goodnight Spencer Ried with three PhDs” you said with a smile as Spencer walked down the stairs.

---

After your first introduction to each other on that roof, you and Spencer started to become friends, then good friends, and then he asked you out on a date and now, 3 and a half years later. You couldn't be more happy to be alive than now. Time seemed to stand still as the last note from the guitar rang around the bar and everyone clapped, a few standing and another few wiping their tears away from the corners of their eyes. You smiled as you and Micheal bowed on the stage before walking off, Spencer nudged his team as he stood up.

“Come on, we’ll get a booth so it's easier” the profiler said as another band came onto the stage and started their song. The FBI agents all stood and followed Spencer to the bar where (Y/n) stood, looking around for their boyfriend and nervously sipping on whiskey, Spencer smirked as he turned to his friends with a look of excitement, “watch this” the Doctor said with a wiggle of his brows before walking over towards you. You bit your lip as you looked around nervously hoping Spencer had made it tonight, “a good looking person like you should bite their lip so much” a voice said behind you, you jumped from the suddenness of it before turning around and allowing a large smile to form over your lips before placing your drink on the bar and wrapping your arms around your tall boyfriends neck.

“Spence! You made it!” you said happily, though you had been together for over 3 years, Spencer Reid still seemed to give you the same butterflies like the first date you two ever had.

“Of course i made it Bug,” Spencer said, using his nickname for you, “wouldn't miss it even if i was dying” the agent said with a knowing smile as a scoff could be heard behind him causing Spencer and you to look at the intruder.

“He was almost dying when he was coming down the street,” a man said, he was black and tall and rather handsome, Spencer gave a shy smile as he walked over next to the man.

“These are my coworkers!” Spencer said a little nervously, you had a confused look on your face previously but now it was filled with excitement and elated happiness as you walked forward towards the group.

“So you guys are the people he keeps boasting on about!” you said happily as you stuck out your hand to the first man.

“Derek Morgan” the man said, you nodded as you shook his hand and a soft smile came over the man's face, this was Spencer's ‘big brother’ at the office. You moved to the next person.

“Emily Prentiss,” the girl said, she was sleek and had nice hair, you made a mental note to ask her about it later as you moved to the next person.

“Jason Gideon”, ah, so this was Spencer's mentor, you gave a knowing look at Gideons hands encapsulating yours in a warm and inviting way. Spencer looked at you greeting everyone with a profound happiness.

“Aaron Hotchner, but please just Hotch” the man said, you smiled.

“So youre the narcissist” you said with a wink as Hotch gave a small laugh as Spencer closed his eyes with a smile. You moved to the next person. She was rather round and had blonde hair and a brilliant red dress and blue cardigan on.

“Penelopie Garcia, i make sure your wonder boy over there makes it back alive to you” the girl said, you gave a laugh as did everyone else knowing it was a team effort but it was also a joke.

“Than i shall give all my thanks to you and bid everyone else, adew” you said with a tone of laughter, Garcia laughed with you as you moved to the final person, “you must be-”

“J.J., please” the girl said as she shook your hand for the final time, you nodded in respect, so this was the girl Reid fancied for like, an hour or something whenever it was he told you that point.

“Well, please let's get a booth and get to know each other!” you said with a smile as you grabbed your glass of liquor from the bar and walked to a previously reserved booth in the far corner of the bar.

“You shouldn't drink that drink you know,” Derek said from behind you, “you left it alone for two minutes, could be drugged” you smiled as yourself and the group piled into the booth.

“Then I am one hundred percent sure one of you would have told me” you said as you took a sip of your drink, Derek laughed as Garcia sat next to him and he wrapped an arm around her, you eyed them for a moment before letting it go. Spencer sat next to you as J.J. sat next to him, then the rest piled in.

“So (Y/n), tell us a little bit about yourself,” Hotch started as he took a sip of his beer, you cleared your throat as you looked to Spencer who nodded for confirmation.

“Well, um, I'm in a band,” you chuckled softly, “as you could see earlier I sing, we’ve made songs and practised them but we haven't been able to perfect them the way we want to start recording.” you took a moment, “um, i met Spencer a few years ago on our apartment roof-”

“EXCUSE ME,” Derek exclaimed with wide eyes, “you’re telling me pretty boy over here has had you as his little secret for a few YEARS?!”, Spencer chuckled.

“Three and almost a half to be exact Morgan” Spencer said with a shit-eating grin as he took a swig of your drink, you slapped him on the chest causing him to laugh.

“That’s my drink you prick!” you exclaimed with a smile, “anyway, um,” you shrugged with a laugh, “you guys are the ones who have profiling as a career you should be doing this to me not the other way around” you laughed as you looked to Gideon, the man smiled.

“You closed your eyes when you where up on stage,” Gideon started, “whatever you were singing meant alot for you to get so into it, you were looking around a lot when you where at the bar, you’re anxious”

“Of course i am, im meeting you guys for the first time,” you said with an awkward smile, okay, this was a little different than you expected.

“You also have been fiddling with a ring, signifying anxiety,” Hotch chimed in, “and biting your lip,” you pulled your lip from in between your teeth and looked at the table.

“Alright enough,” Spencer said a little harsher than he intended, “can we just, drop the profiler job for tonight and just be like normal friends?” he asked agitated, this sparked your eye and you gave Spencer a glance, he glanced back as reassurance.

“(Y/n), where do you work?” Garcia asked as a waitress brought her another drink with a little pink umbrella, you smiled as she broke the ice.

“Other than in a band I work in a vintage antique store, one of those really old ones?” you smiled, “i got Spencers first gift from that shop actually,” you smiled at the memory.

“Oh here we go,” Spencer said from beside you as he clasped his eyes shut and smiled.

“Please can i tell them!?” you exclaimed.

“Yeah go on,” Spencer said as he looked back to you and gave you a kiss on the lips.

“Woah I didn't know pretty boy ever kissed anyone, besides that one girl?” Derek said, he trailed off at the end forgetting the girl's name.

“Lila” J.J. said softly.

“Yeah Lila, the actress” Derek said.

“ANYWAY,” you exclaimed trying to get back onto the story, Derek smiled as an apology as you continued the story, “obviously Spencer here loves books,” you started, “but since he can read 20,000 words a minute there was no way i was going to get his first date present a goddam book he’d read in like an hour, so,” you smiled towards Spencer who was trying to suppress his laughing, “i got him an antique music box, i just happen across it one day when i was leaving the shop. It was sitting right on the bench, waiting for me, i opened it and started winding the handle,” you smiled as Spencer looked down at you with love and adoration, “i didn't recognise the song at first but,” you looked around the table, “you know when you get that sudden feeling, when you hear something and you just suddenly understand what it was and what it was saying?” you asked, Emily, Garcia, Hotch; all the team nodded with a knowing look, “well, it was like that. The music box was the song I played on the stage tonight, Hallelujah, and instantly I knew I had to get it for him” you heard a sniffle on the table as Garcia was wiping at her eyes.

“I’m fine! Stop looking at me like that” the girl said with a smile, “it's just really sweet”

“And this was a first date present?” Emily asked from the side, this time Spencer nodded and answered.

“I had asked (Y/n) out a week prior and we decided we just wanted it to be a nice coffee date and walk in the park, when the time finally came i bought their favourite flowers from the shop, gave them to her and then she pulled out a lovely little bag with a package in it and said ‘this is for you’.” Spencer smiled, “when i went home that night and finally looked at the present, i had the same feeling as (Y/n) did, i didn't recognise the song at first but when it got to that one single word i knew, i knew (Y/n) was the one i wanted to marry one day,” the team around you guys smiled as their favourite profiler finally got the break he deserved in life. “I called (Y/n) right after i finished listening to the music box in a mess of tears and instantly asked for a second date, luckily i was charming enough to get another one” Spencer said in a joking manner as he rubbed his finger nails on his button up shirt as yourself and Emily pushed Spencer jokingly causing everyone to laugh.

“You seem to have it all setup then Ried” Hotch said from the side, Spencer smiled and nodded as he looked at you.

“I and my Annabelle Lee,” Spencer said softly, causing you to blush, a reference to one of his favorite poems by Edgar Allen Poe.

——————————————————————————

HI IF YOU MADE IT I HOPED YOU LIKED IT.

And I hope you saw my nod to MGG at that last sentence 👀.

This was unedited. Apologies.

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 6: Mr. Robot 4x04

Watched another ep of Mr. Robot today! It was the only thing I accomplished outside of the work day (not bitter about that AT ALL lol) but I did it.

This episode was SO atmospheric. Like, not that the other episodes aren’t, but that was my primary impression of it as a whole. Elliot, Mr. Robot, and Tyrell wandering around in the woods through the snow, and on the side of the highway, in the moonlight, with howling animals in the distance... Very desolate and beautiful. I was into it.

I’m not a Tyrell fan but having him as an Elliot minion is probably his best use imo. And I actually appreciated his incredibly Dramatic nature today. Like to the point that I kind of wanted him and Elliot to be friends? Even though prior to this I never thought their relationship was objectively anything special outside of Tyrell’s head. Like he obviously has a crush on Elliot (or possibly Mr. Robot) but that never seemed requited on any level--not just in the sense that Elliot is straight, in the sense that he didn’t seem to enjoy Tyrell’s company at all and didn’t really seem to... get Tyrell. (Or maybe I’m projecting lol.) Anyway, I’m vaguely aware that there was a subset of fans who thought their relationship, however defined, was Very Important and I occasionally wondered if Tyrell and Elliot scenes were specifically catering to them, at least a little bit. I felt similarly about some of the dialogue in this ep, but also vindicated by it, because it basically confirmed my reading. But it also made me sad about it! Like it’s true Tyrell really does honestly like Elliot. Maybe they could have worked something out, friendship wise.

That said... not exactly sad to see Tyrell go. He’d basically reached the end of his story line, he got a great final episode and some significant scenes with Elliot, kinda concluding their own personal story, and he got to walk off into the snowy, wintry, full-moon mist like the Drama Ho he is. Plus whatever that last scene with him ‘walking toward the light’ was. Not sure if that was supposed to be symbolic, a feverish hallucination, or something else. Cool enough aesthetic though.

I was a little wary of Darlene’s story line because Darlene in a car with a sappy, drunk Councilman Jamm, I mean Tobias the Santa, hearing his sad stories, is... a little on the nose, a little too depressing for me. I can’t really explain. It’s like at the crossroads of cliche and grim. BUT the plot twist at the end--that made it more than worth it. He was just being maudlin while drunk and she was projecting all of her own fears about Elliot’s suicidal ideation on him. I also loved his super-Christmas-y house. Like...yeah he really just is drunk! And that’s why he’s so weird. Otherwise, he’s just a good guy, who loves Christmas decorations, loves his wife, does good things for kids, is into Christmas movies... and is even willing to be nice to Darlene and encouraging. It was like weirdly heartwarming. Basically exactly what you’d expect from a Mr. Robot Christmas.

Then there’s Dom. Oh, Dom. I have to say, I’ve always really liked the scenes where she’s being emo in the dark in her apartment and I liked this one, too. Cannot believe she’s rubbing one out to Darlene’s interrogation video. True love lmao. I really did think that the RL encounter with the “woman” was real until the point where she became Dark Army. That’s probably on me because it is very unrealistic but like... I don’t know, it was vaguely plausible. I think Dom might really be that reckless, especially in her current state. And... idk people can be fake on the internet?? I don’t know. Again, as with the Darlene twist, it worked better as a dream. I hope that scene of Dom washing her face at the end was meant to be a bit of a turning point for her. I want her to be okay!

The scene at the gas station was legitimately hilarious. “I didn’t know you were on Big Brother!”

AU where Tyrell goes on Big Brother.

It also amused me how Elliot continuously spoke as if they were three people (”all our phones” instead of “both of our phones,” not that he and Tyrell don’t probably have more than one, for example) even though physically speaking, there are only two bodies experiencing this adventure.

I loved the music at the end: it was a really great combination of Christmas-y and creepy. Like the soundtrack to a Christmas horror movie or something.

I’m still a little uncertain about structuring the last season as basically a new hack (exactly what Esmail chose not to do in S2), one last big bad to take down. Like on the one hand, you basically have to do that in order to not only have a coherent season, but have a coherent final season, with a satisfying ending. But on the other hand, this is a show that has staked so much on its own complexity, on showing the vast ripples of unintended consequences in a highly connected world, and on fully acknowledging the realities of power and money, and their effects on the protagonists and their plans. Like, it’s not satisfying to see Elliot lose. And it’s also not satisfying to see a villain as great as whiterose taken down with anything like ease. Not that it’s been easy thus far. I don’t know. I’m probably judging WAY too early. I still have quite a few episodes before the finale.

I really expected Darlene and Elliot to meet up in this episode, at the end. It might have been a little too deus ex machina if they did, but that said I expect they’ll find each other early in the next ep, since they seem to be together for it (based on the summary).

I think this season is doing a really good job of emphasizing the themes of each episode, as shown in the titles, of keeping each episode relatively simple and tying all the story lines together. And not relying TOO much on narration to do it (since I’m not that into the Mr. Robot voice overs still tbh). The concept of searching for what can’t be found, and the parallel but never meeting journeys of the Alderson siblings at the center of the story, was really deftly done.

Elliot and Darlene remain the Most Important.

[comphersjost]

i don’t want this night to end (like you always did) ➸ auston matthews

idk this popped into my head and i couldn’t wait to write it aksksksks it’s kinda long pero i hope you guys enjoy it!

words: 3345

auston and you have been hooking up for two years every time you’re in toronto visiting your best friend, and he always wants you to stay until morning. so when you get a job in toronto, you want so badly to give it.

warnings: smut, lotta fluff at the end, mutual pining, kinda angsty sskks

PSA this is a song fic so listen to this song while you read this!

find my masterlist here

lowercase intended

girl, I know I don't know you

but your pretty little eyes so blue,

are pulling me in like the moon on your skin

it was your eyes that pulled him in. so bright and so blue that they looked fake. they were. fake, that is. you wanted to try out some colored contacts and the blue ones happened to be in that night. he thought your natural color was more beautiful though, even more enticing than the colored lenses you had been wearing.

you didn't know him well. you’d met auston 2 years ago when you were in town visiting a friend. he was charming and had a voice that could probably convince you to do anything he wanted. one thing led to another and you ended up at his place. and then you left. and when you came back to toronto it happened again. and again. and again. and again. and your visits just happened to line up with when auston wasn't on the road.

and then your friend talked you into applying for jobs in toronto. you got the one you were hoping for. but you didn't tell him. how were you supposed to say “hey auston, we’ve fucked every time i’ve come to toronto and now i conveniently got a job and i’m moving here now”? no. especially not when he asked you to stay, every time. stay the night he would say, like he always did. i can’t. you would say, like you always did. i have an early flight.

i'm so glad you trusted me to slide up on this dusty seat

and let your hair down, and get outta town

you didn't tell auston that this time you were staying for good this time, only sent him a text that said back in town for a little while :), like you always did, that was met with an immediate response. come over? was his response. and you said yes. like you always did. this time though, he met you at the door, wearing sweatpants and tugging on a blue hoodie with a maple leafs logo. you pretended not to notice it, like you always did. you also pretend not to notice the bruise on his bicep, probably from getting checked into the glass. he greeted you with a gentle kiss to your lips,  hands cupping your face, one of rings on his car keys on his finger.

“c’mon,” was all he said, before taking your hand and leading you back down to his car, a pickup truck. he opened the door for you - ever a gentleman - and helped you up into the passenger’s seat.

“where we goin, aus?” you hummed when he climbed in next to you. he started the truck and pulled out of the driveway. he’s driving on a main road before he answers you.

“don’t know yet,” he looks over at you. the roads are empty - you came over late, like you always did. “don't have work for tomorrow so m’gonna drive around for a bit, see where the night takes us. that okay?” he leans over to take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“yeah,” you say, “yeah that's definitely okay.”

got the stars comin' out,

over my hood

it’s nearly 11 now, and you know you won't be back at your new apartment - it feels strange to call it home so soon - till early tomorrow morning. auston keeps his fingers tangled with yours when he reaches over to turn on the radio, using his knuckle to push the buttons. he pulls your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, letting your intertwined fingers fall in between the seats.

and all I know now

is it's going good

the silence is comfortable. good. everything was good with you. auston felt relaxed, at peace whenever you came over. even when he got the text that you're in town, it feels like a relief for him to know that you're close. he wishes you would stay with him, stay in toronto even, he'd like to take you out on a proper date. but you wouldn't, and he can't.

he knows he's taking a risk when he glances at you again and says, “i missed you.”

the corners of your mouth curl upwards. “missed you too, aus,” you murmur. this time you're the one to kiss his hand.

you got your hands up,

you're rocking in my truck

you got the radio on,

you're singing every song

a song comes on that you can’t ignore, and you start to sing along, leaning over to turn it up with your free hand. auston can't help the smile that overtakes his face as you belt out the lyrics to some random pop song that came on the radio. and then the next song. and the next.

i'm set on cruise control

i'm slowly losing hold of everything I got

fuck, you're beautiful, he thinks, but he doesn't say it. he keeps his mouth shut, like he always does. if he says things too serious or intense or too emotional that could blow his cover. it could expose him to you. and then you’d know that who he was. (you knew, but you never told him.) and you'd also know that may or may not have stalked your instagram, and almost hit follow one too many times. he refrained from following you, like he always did. (you’d gone private a few months ago, and he mourned the loss of seeing your face every time he missed you.) that given any chance, auston would ask you out, take you out on a date, and maybe ask you to be his girlfriend. it didn't help that you didn't even live in toronto, much less canada. and it definitely didn't help that you were friends - if he could even call your relationship a friendship - with benefits, but only when you were in town.

auston definitely didn't want you know that he wanted you to be around, to always be in town.

you're looking so damn hot

and I don't know what road we're on,

or where we've been from starin' at you

girl, all I know is I don't want this night to end

auston doesn't recognize the street you're on anymore, too busy sneaking glances at you singing along in the moonlight. he’s in trouble, and he knows it. you’re just so beautiful and he's so distracted and never wants you to leave. maybe this way he’ll be with you til morning. just once, he wants to wake up with you next to him.

gonna cuss the morning,

when it comes

'cause I know that the rising sun,

ain't no good for me

'cause you'll have to leave

auston hates mornings. he’s never been a morning person, but he's even less of one when you're around. you usually stay until he falls asleep, curled around you in his bed, and when he opens his eyes in the morning, you're gone and he's left feeling empty and longing.

gonna make the most of every mile

do anything to make your smile,

land on my lips

and get drunk on your kiss

aus parks the car at some viewpoint overlooking the city, he doesn't even know where he is anymore. if you're going to leave again, he's damn well going to make the most of it. get as much of you as you can before you're gone again. you turn to look at him, just as he leans in to kiss you. “missed you,” he mumbles again against your lips. “missed this.” the words register but you're too distracted by his mouth on yours to respond to him.

your lips fit and auston can't help but think that they're made for each other. that you're made for each other. he hates that he's falling so quickly and he barely knows you. but with his mouth on yours, he wants to know you. he wants to know your favorite food and if you hate mushrooms and your starbucks order and if you like pineapple on pizza or not. he wants to know it all.

his left hand comes up to cup your jaw, his right untangling from yours to rest on your thigh. he disconnects your lips a couple times to change the angle or let you catch your breath, but he's so addicted to you, he can't stay away. he deepens the kiss as his hands slides up your thigh, towards  the apex of your thighs. you whine softly into his mouth. you want to say touch me, auston but he won't leave your lips long enough for you to get even a word in. your hands card through his hair, tugging at the roots. a groan escapes his throat when give an especially harsh tug.

it’s when you're tugging his shirt over his head that auston releases both of your seatbelts and pulls you into his lap. the moment your seat on top of him he lowers the back of the driver’s seat and pulls you back into him by the back of your neck. you’re clothes come off in a hurry - he needs you.

auston has always given you the option of being on top but you've never taken it. this time, though, it seems like you will. before you can lower yourself onto him, auston’s hands are on your hips, pulling your center towards his face. “aus-” he shushes you before you can say anything.

“wanna taste you,” comes his grunt, and you don't argue. before you can say anything else his mouth is on you. you almost scream at the feeling, his tongue sneaking out do lap at your slit.

“oh fuck auston,” you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair. “fuck don't stop, that feels so good.” auston hums as he seals his lips around you clit and it’s almost embarrassing how close that action brings you to the edge.

auston nips at your swollen bud, and this time you do scream. “fuck! auston!” he does it again and your gasping out, hips grinding into his face. he hums in approval at the action, his hands moving to your ass and guiding you to ride his mouth. what auston doesn't know is that he completely and totally owns you. you’d do anything he asked if he just used that voice, the one he used when you first met. deep and seductive and it made you weak in the knees. and when he was so so good at eating you out like this, treating you right, you almost want to tell him that you're staying, for good this time. and you almost want to ask if maybe he wants to go out for real.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when auston slides his tongue into you, and you almost cry from how good it feels.

“aus, aus, feels so good, m’so close,” you almost beg.

auston pulls away for just a moment to say, “i got you baby, let go for me.”

it’s not even five seconds later that he pulls your clit into his mouth again and you're thrown over the edge, seeing white. the only things leaving your mouth were his name and broken moans. god, he treated you so so good every time. his tongue guides you through your orgasm, long, soft strokes against your clit until you came down again.

auston places you back in his lap, sitting up so that his chest was against yours. “think you got one more for me honey?” he murmurs against your neck, peppering soft kisses on your throat and shoulder. no visible hickies he remembers you told him. maybe he could leave just one this time. after all, he doesn't know when he’ll see you again and wants to give you something to remember him by. he sucks gently at the spot below your collarbone just at the top of your breast. it isn't a bold mark, just a faint bruise. he knows you feel it because he can hear you let out a sigh of contentment at the feeling.

“want you,” you mumble into his hair. “want you so bad, aus.”

“okay. okay,” he breathes, lifting his head to look you in the eye. “still on the pill?” you nod down at him, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. at least, you intended for it to be quick. he keeps you there, lifting your hips with one hand and lowering you onto his cock with the other. you break the kiss as he inches you down on him.

“fuuuuuuck,” comes your moan. he’s so big and thick and you feel so stretched out. “please, please, aus, fuck.” before you can start to move, auston does. he’s holding you in place with an arm around your waist while he fucks up into you. the moans leaving your mouth are heaven to him, the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. he thrusts even harder when he thinks she’s making those sounds because of me. you cry out at the sharp thrusts, gripping his forearm that’s wrapped around your waist for dear life.

“fuck me, auston, fuck i’m gonna come again, fuck, aus.” the moment the words leave your lips, auston is working even harder to push you over. you’re clenching around him, holding onto him as if it’s the last time (for all you know it very well may be). his other hand comes down to rub your clit with his thumb, and you feel tears well up in your eyes from the overstimulation. you cry out his name again as you come.

the way you clench around him is enough to send auston into his own orgasm. his voice is rough and deep as he says your name, groans muffled by his head buried in your neck. “Y/N, i'm coming, fuck.” you have to push auston’s hand away from your pussy when you both come down, the feeling too sensitive and too painful for you to bear.

auston slips out of you as gently as he can, relishing in the moan that you let out when he seats you back on his thighs.

the clock on the dash,

says 3:35

there's plenty of gas,

and the night's still alive

he glances at the clock, and - 3:35 am - fuck it’s late. aus peppers kisses along your neck and collar bone, humming into your skin. your hand comes up to brush the bruise he left, hissing quietly at the sting.

“aus,” you start.

“i know,” he mumbles, “m’sorry, couldn't help myself.”

you tilt his head up to kiss him. “it’s okay, i like it.” warmth floods auston at your words and he kisses you deeper.

“will you stay?” he says it so quietly you're not sure if you heard him correctly.

“i-” you pause. you live here now, permanently as far as you can see. and maybe this should be the last time you see him, and if you weren't going to see him again then fuck yes you were going to stay. “yeah,” you continue, “yeah, i’ll stay.” you can feel auston’s grin on your lips, and you're almost shocked at how happy you staying through the night would make him.

you got your hands up,

you're rocking in my truck

you got the radio on,

you're singing every song

i'm set on cruise control

i'm slowing losing hold of everything I got

auston lays back down, pulling you down with him to lay on his chest, and curls his arms around you. you start to get sleepy with how comfortable you are and how he’s stroking your hair like that. you wished you could tell him that you were staying for more than just tonight. but it was a bad idea, and you knew it. who were you to date a hockey player? someone who was recognized everywhere he goes in the country of canada, and in most places in the states.

no. no you can’t tell him.

you're looking so damn hot

and I don't know what road we're on,

or where we've been from starin' at you

girl, all I know is I don't want this night to end

as auston slips deeper into sleep he can’t help but think again that he wishes you lived here. that you’d stay longer than just tonight. maybe then you could be a part of his life. permanently.

it’s 2 weeks later that auston sees you again. at least - he thinks he does. he’s drunk out of his mind at some bar or club that he can't even remember the name of and even then he can’t get you out of his head. he sees a flash of your hair, and then a peal of laughter that sounds so much like you. the girl’s eyes widen when she faces him. he thinks that she probably recognizes him, everyone in this goddamn city does.

he stumbles away before he says something he regrets, like calling for you in the middle of a bar. he finally gets outside, gasping for air. your name is the only thing going through his mind. he imagines your face, and your smile, and the smell of your hair, and the way you held onto him when you came 2 weeks ago, in the driver’s seat of his truck overlooking the city.

auston shakes his head, he's had too much to drink and needs to go home.

it’s 3 months after the incident at the bar that he sees you again. this time he’s sober, and so are you. you’re coming out of a starbucks with your friend, facing towards her, when a giant body almost runs you over. you almost drop your drink, barely holding onto the freezing cup as some spills out of the lid that wasn't closed tightly enough.

“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” a familiar voice says frantically. your blood runs cold. fuck. auston. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean t-” he stops, freezing when he looks at you. “Y/N?” his mouth is open in shock.

“auston, hi,” you stutter, “hi-i-uh-”

“why didn't you tell me that you're in town again?” he interrupts you. your friend turns to raise her eyebrows at you, as if to say auston matthews is the guy you’ve been hooking up with?! before touching your arm and walking away, leaving the two of you to talk.

“you didn't tell me you were here,” he repeats, his voice falling into the monotone one he uses in interviews. (yes, you watched some of his interviews.)

“i know,” you look up at him shyly, “well, the thing is, i’m actually, like, i’m in town, um, permanently now?” you blurted out. fuck. you should have lied and said you just landed. but now he knows, and there's no going back.

“what?” a hint of hurt slips through his voice. “permanently? you live here now? since when?”

you look away from him. “i- i was offered a job here almost four months ago and i accepted the offer.” you don't see his eyes darken.

“so the last time we were together?” you nod, refusing to look at him. he probably hates you now. and whatever this thing is that you had going on is over. but he reaches out and tilts your head towards him. “you should’ve told me, baby, i’ve wanted to ask you out for 2 years.”

“you what?” you couldn't believe what you were hearing, auston felt the same?

“you heard me, honey,” aus chuckles, he cups your face, his other hand pulling you in by the waist. he presses a sweet kiss to your lips as your free hand comes up to hold his jaw. once again, you can’t help but think that your lips fit. auston breaks away from you, resting his forehead against yours. “what do you say we give this a shot, hm? me ‘n you? for real this time?”

“yeah,” you smile up at him, “yeah, i’d really like that.”

[trouvelle]

Emogust 15.08 — Twisted Fairytale

A/N: I don’t know if I twisted this right! As always, its KaiAo and HeiKazu and (mentioned) ShinRan. I’ve been longing to write something about Kaito and someone else aside from Aoko, Saguru, Shinichi, etc. So here ya go, platonic KaiZuha! :D Also idk the thought of him losing his cool is just overall comedic @mintchocolateleaves @sup-poki

"Fear not, for I am here to rescue you from your deadly slumber!" exclaims Kaito in triumph as he stands at the foot of the tower with one foot up on a tree stump, his dashing white cape billowing majestically in the breeze.

He’s not exactly expecting anything, but he certainly isn’t expecting a response. So when a girl with her hair up in a ponytail soon pokes her head out the window while stifling a yawn, he is majorly shocked.

"...Who are you?" shouts the girl in response, staring down at him with an eyebrow raised. 

Kaito flinches as he takes in the sight of his princess, who has been known worldwide as Sleeping Beauty, but is very much awake. "Uh," he says lamely while squinting up at the window, "You're already awake?"

 "Of course—I wake up every morning," she deadpans. "I've been doing that for the past eighteen years, in fact. Is there supposed to be something wrong with that?"

"Oh, good Lord, the spell was broken that early?" Kaito frowns, positively bewildered. "Does this mean… another prince got here earlier than me?"

"Well, I haven’t been getting any visitors at all, but Mother comes to visit once in a while. Actually, I shouldn't even be talking to strangers. Who the hell are you, anyway?" the girl questions warily.

"I should be asking you the same question," Kaito sighs in exasperation. "In fact, I have a lot more to ask. If you don't mind, I'll be coming up now. We need to talk."

Φ

He proceeds to spend the next half hour inching his way up the side of the tower with the help of a grappling hook fashioned from some rope and the metal frame of his father's old parasol, as the ponytailed princess watches rather amusedly from the window. (Wait, why is he even carrying his father's parasol again?) 

Just as Kaito clambers onto the window sill, panting, the girl lunges at him and yanks him inwards into the tower, knocking him to the floor with an impressive martial art-like move and pinning him down with all her body weight.

"What the hell?" Kaito gasps, completely taken aback. "Is that really necessary? I'm here to rescue you!" 

The girl leans down to take a good look at his face, still keeping a strong hold and him. He curses Fate for giving him such a violent princess. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," She finally says after a rather long and awkward stare-down. She lets go of Kaito and stands up, dusting her skirt, looking a little sheepish. "It's just that...I've never had anyone aside from Mother in my tower before, it's a little... intimidating. Had to make sure you weren't going to kill me or anything." She adds, "Plus, I have a lot of spare time up here, so I've been practicing aikido."

Kaito winces as he slowly gets up from the floor, rubbing his elbows and knees. "That was a bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. Anyway, now that you know I'm not out to assassinate you, I'm Kaito, otherwise known as Prince of the Moonlight. And judging by the look on your face right now, you don't like the second name, so just call me Kaito."

"Very well. I'm Kazuha, but you might’ve heard people use my birth name—Rapunzel. Why do you need to rescue me, anyway?"

He vaguely gestures to the room they’re in. And for the first time, he notices her hair. More specifically, the length of her hair. It’s literally in a loop, occupying each corners of the room. "Well, I was sent here to rescue a sleeping princess, but right now, I'm just thoroughly confused by everything. And why the hell is your hair that long anyway? Your head must weigh a ton!”

She wisely chooses to ignore his last remarks. "Oh, Princess Aurora, you mean? Although we don’t call her that here, we call her Ran, because Aurora is a little bit too twisty of a word. She's in the next kingdom. I believe you've come to search in the wrong place." There's amusement written all over Kazuha's face at this point.

“No—wait. Sleeping Beauty is the princess that Prince Shinichi is tasked to find. I’m supposed to rescue the princess from the kingdom of Far Far Away, who like, transform as a human only between sunrise and sunset. If I remember correctly, her birth name is Fiona or something.” exclaims Kaito in desperation.

Kazuha walks to the window—the only window in her whole tower room, and points at the greenery even further away. “Then I think you’re looking for Princess Aoko!”

“What’s up with you princesses and your code names? Honestly you’re confusing me even more.” Kaito shakes his head in despair. Aurora, Ran. Fiona, Aoko. And what was Kazuha’s birth name again?

“That’s kind of the goal here, actually. We have to come up with a plan to throw off the bad guys. It’s worked pretty well so far! People come here bellowing things like ‘We’re here to kidnap you, Rapunzel’ and I simply tell them that I’m Kazuha, not Rapunzel. They’d always leave feeling very confused.” She laughs, obviously proud of her own accomplishment.

“Makes sense. So about Princess Aoko—”

“Right! She’s the only one who becomes an ogress during nighttime.”

“Ogress?!”

Kazuha laughes lightly. She’s having fun teasing this strange prince with his equally strange, messy hair. “Nope, I was joking. It’s just that she has poor eyesight, so she doesn’t really venture out during the night. Also, her tower is two more kingdoms over in that direction.”

"Are you kidding me?!" Kaito continues to talk to himself as he takes out his map to check his location. He proceeds to pull out his monocle from his breast pocket and puts it over his right eye to get a good look at his map. "I must’ve gotten the wrong map. Didn’t even notice it when it got switched. What kingdom are we in anyway? ... This is why I should start wearing my monocle more often."

Kazuha can see how compatible Aoko and Kaito would be. Heck, Kaito even has his own set of monocle. She wonders why Aoko is so adamant about revealing the fact about her eyesight to anyone.

Kaito rubs his temples. "I am so, royally, screwed. How am I supposed to reach there in a week? It took me a whole month to even get here!"

Kazuha honestly doesn't know what to say to this, so she just leans against the windowsill, tapping her foot while Kaito paces back and forth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he thinks and thinks. 

“The Council of Kings won’t be pleased.” He murmurs to himself, angry at how he could’ve gotten his map switched. And to think that he’s not even a real prince! He’s just a thief with big ambitions, following in his father’s footsteps as the renowned KID. If the Kings find out that he’s failed his mission and the fact that he’s not a prince, he’s doomed to spend the rest of his life in a dungeon.

Kazuha woefully suggests, rubbing her eyes in an act of weariness. “Listen, I have an idea. Why don’t I just go back with you, and when we meet the other prince and your supposed princess, we can switch places. Aoko and I are pretty close, we often send letters to each other. I’m sure she will understand. Hm?”

"That might actually work, provided if Princess Aoko and whoever rescues her don’t get the castle first before we do." He agrees a little reluctantly.

"It’s settled then!" Kazuha cheers adorably, excitement very evident in her voice. “I’ve never been out of this tower before. Mother always says that the outside is full of evil and selfish people, but look at how it’s just so, so beautiful out there.”

Kaito smiles back at her. He’s heard that out of the three Tower Princesses, Rapunzel is the one who has been in the tower the longest, since she was taken away when she’s still a baby. “It is,” He agrees, making his way to the door, “I can guarantee you that you’re gonna love it.”

“Wait, Kaito! This tower doesn't have any stairs, in case you didn't know.”

"Okay. Easy, no worries. I have my most trusty grappling hook for us to use." He says with a dismissive wave of his hand. Years of being a thief gave him experience in climbing and maneuvering. He walks over to the window sill, peering outside. The grappling hook lies on the grass below.

“On second thoughts… you were saying something about no stairs?"

There’s a brief moment of silence as Kaito slumps his shoulders forward, like he’s giving up dealing with his life at this point. Seriously, when he volunteered for the Tower Princesses Rescue Mission, he didn’t think it’s going to be this challenging.

Kazuha sighs. "That’s what my hair is for.”

She joins him by the windowsill and attempts to throw her hair off her right shoulder and down the side of the tower. She’s pulling and pulling, and pulling, then pushing and pushing and pushing. And as Kaito watches in awe, he can’t help but notice how her hair seems to have a life of its own. Her hair is superbly smooth and silky, and he simply slides down with ease.

Far better than using his grappling hook.

“Also, your prince is a total dumbass. Good luck—you’re gonna need it when you finally meet him.” 

For what it’s worth, he thinks, this Princess is quite entertaining. Their journey back will be fun.

Part II

[highroadsteve]

wingwoman — t.h.

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: none

requested thanks love!!

author’s note: requests are closed! this is the last requested i received before i closed them. hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

It seemed as if your life was on the best track it could be on. You worked so hard for years, and it was finally paying off. It was your time to shine; this movie was going to be the movie that will get you the success you wanted.

However, you did not expect the internet’s reaction.

The internet can be a wonderful place, but when you’re very much in the public’s eye, you get treated unfairly. At least it’s not something that hasn’t happened before. All celebrities have people who hate them, it’s just the truth.

Being a fan of Marvel since you were a child, it was obvious that you’d be so excited to be cast in one of their movies. Growing up with all those superheros, and watching every movie the minute it came out, it was your absolute dream to be in one. And that’s what had happened.

You were playing Gwen Stacy in the new Spiderman franchise, with Tom Holland as your co-star. This was the biggest role that you’ve booked so far; being a main character and the main love interest of Peter Parker. You were beyond excited, and you were happy to be portraying your own version of Gwen.

But, the moment the internet found out that Gwen Stacy was even going to exist in this version of the mcu, everything went chaos. Your face was released everywhere, and people were using it to their advantage to hate on you. They went from poking fun at your insecurities to hating on your acting from previous movies, and it took a toll on you.

People were angry, and most of them were angry that Zendaya was no longer going to play Peter’s love interest. This had created a spark of tension between your names.

Thousands of comments were flooding your instagram and twitter feed, people accusing you of sleeping with Tom, sleeping with directors, etc. Although there were mostly people who hated you for playing the role, the most common rumor was the apparent feud between you and Zendaya.

They said that the two of you hated each other because you’re going to ruin Tom and Zendaya’s friendship and you wanted Tom all for yourself. The rumors were spreading like wildfire, and you were starting to regret even taking the role.

But the rumors couldn’t be farther from the truth.

The second you met Zendaya, the two of you clicked so fast it surprised everyone. The two of you talk so comfortably around each other, it was hard to tell whether you just met or you met six years ago. Sharing the same sense of humor, it was common to find you both laughing so hard that there was no noise coming from your mouths and tears streaming down your faces. You had sleepovers almost all the time during filming because, hey, you were surrounded by so much testosterone on set, you just needed a break.

One day, both of you were sitting on the couch, flipping through channels and just talking about whatever came to mind.

“So, you still got that crush on Tom?” Zendaya asked you, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. You almost choked on your drink.

“How do you still remember that? I said it like three months ago. I’m a changed woman.”

“You said it like last week.”

“You got me there.” You answered, tilting your drink slightly at her. She rolled her eyes and playfully threw a pillow at you.

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Zendaya asked again, turning her body slightly so her attention is on you.

You puckered your lips and hummed, “Mmm, can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m lazy.”

Zendaya scoffed and kicked you slightly, almost letting you spill your drink, “Stop playing, I’m being serious.”

You put your drink down on the table next to you and looked at her with your eyebrows furrowed. “I am being serious. You know how much I can’t do that.”

Zendaya shook her head and drank from the cup she had in her hand, “I actually don’t know. Care to enlighten me?”

“Okay first of all, I’m afraid of rejection—“

“Everyone is.”

“Second, everyone is just going to hate me more. I’m not sure if I can take that.”

Your mind flashed back to all those times, crying in the early hours of the day, seeing a wave of new tweets talking about how much they don’t want a Gwen. It hurt you, and you know that the hate comes with being in the spotlight, but that doesn’t make it any better. Being criticized for being yourself hurt you.

“Since when do you care what other people think?” Zendaya asked, genuinely confused on what you’re talking about.

“Since everyone started to hate on me because I’m apparently taking Tom away from you.” You rolled your eyes, the tears ready to spill out because you were finally speaking about how you felt.

“I’m pretty sure they just hate the character. Gwen does take Peter from MJ.” Zendaya furrowed her eyebrows.

“I meant in real life, Z. People think I’m taking you away from Tom.” You emphasized.

“But we’re not even together.”

“Still getting hate for it.”

“No, you know what. Screw them. If you want to be with Tom, you go for it. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen, and if you get hate for it, I’ll personally tell people to fuck off.” Zendaya put her drink down with a slam, causing you to look at her in surprise.

“You’re going to be my wingwoman?”

“Hell yeah.”

...

So the mission began. Although you and Tom were already close, Zendaya made sure that your best qualities were implemented in Tom’s mind. When Zendaya and Tom were alone, Zendaya always transitioned to talking about you and how much you and Tom would look cute together.

Tom would always laugh it off, rolling his eyes and thinking Zendaya was just messing around. He liked you a lot, his crush on you was increasing, but he also had that fear of rejection.

Zendaya knew that. And she hated the two of you for being so scared because you were both missing out on a beautiful relationship. So she took matters into her own hand, and set up a date.

Z: want to go out?

Y/N: where?

Z: idk, anywhere

Y/N: k let me get ready

Z: Tom and Jacob are tagging along

Y/N: sounds good

You put your phone down and started getting ready. Not knowing where you were going, you went with a simple outfit: jeans, tshirt, jacket. After you were finished getting ready, you got a text from Tom.

Hey love, we’re outside

Responding with an okay and a smiley face, you grabbed your bag and basically ran out the door. You saw Tom’s car and walked over, opening the back door and getting in.

The day continued on and you were so grateful to have worn a jacket because it was pretty cold. The four of you were roaming around the city, the beautiful lights illuminating the equally beautiful characteristics. The moonlight was shining on the water, moving along with its waves. Cars were moving back and forth across the bridge, the sound of car horns everywhere.

“Hey y/n, bet you won’t ask that guy over there for a picture.” Tom nudged you with his elbow, motioning to a street performed dressed in a shiny costume, dancing along to a random song. You looked at Tom with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on your lips.

“How much?”

“10.”

“Deal.”

You went to go ask the performed for a picture and he happily obliged, giving a thumbs up for the picture as you took it. Returning to your group of friends, you smirked at Tom and stretched out your hand.

“My 10.”

He smiled and rolled his eyes, taking out his wallet.

The four of you decided to grab something to eat at a small restaurant you found on the corner of a street. The people in there were dressed in classy attire, and you thanked yourself for convicing yourself to not wear sweat pants.

“This city is gorgeous.” Jacob stated as the waiter left with their orders and their menus. The rest of the group agreed with excited voices.

You sat on your hands to keep them from being cold before speaking, “I can’t wait to film the scenes by the water. It’s going to look so pretty.”

“Oh yeah, remember that one time you cried because you got your shoes wet.” Tom teased you, and you stuck out your tongue at him.

“Shut up Holland, you know I have way more embarrassing stories about you.”

The night continued on and you all just had a swell time together, talking about anything and everything. Zendaya made sure to push you and Tom together as much as she could without making it obvious, until the night began to end.

She pulled Tom aside and whispered to him as you talked to Jacob about something, “do you have feelings for y/n?”

Tom gave her a confused look, his face turning pink and his tongue being tied in knots, “w-what, huh?”

Zendaya rolled her eyes, “do you, or not?”

“Did Jacob tell you?”

“Does it matter?”

Tom sighed and shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. His heart was beating fast when he looked at you. Your gorgeous smile and your bright eyes making it seem almost impossible to look that good in person. You were a walking masterpiece, and he felt you were too good for him.

“Yeah. I do.”

Zendaya smiled and patted his shoulder, returning to looking straight ahead.

“She likes you too.”

“Wait really?”

“Yeah, duh. Why do you think I keep trying to get you two to talk more?” Zendaya gave him a ‘duh’ look, making him realize what she was talking about.

All those times Zendaya left to go to the bathroom and returned like ten minutes later. All those times Zendaya ended up not showing up to plans because she had something else to do. All those times, they were all so you and Tom can become closer.

“You did that on purpose?”

“Obviously. You two don’t have the balls to do it yourselves.”

...

The night came to an end, and you were the first one to be dropped off. Tom parked the car in front of your apartment and he ran to the other side in hopes of opening the door before you. He failed and you giggled at his attempt at being a gentleman, letting him at least hold your hand as he walked you to your door.

Taking out your keys, you faced Tom and gave him a smile, “well, thanks for walking me to my door, Holland”.

“Anytime. I know how hard it is for you to walk three feet.” Tom teased and you rolled your eyes, reaching for a hug.

“What would I do without you?” Tom laughed at your response, and you gave him a smile. You opened the door and turned around to enter but was stopped when Tom grabbed your arm softly.

“Wait, y/n.”

You turned around and gave him a confused look, edging him to go on with what he was going to say. His mouth felt dry and he was extremely nervous, trying to find the right words to say without sounding like a creep.

“I have feelings for you.” Tom spat out, the blush on his face becoming a deeper shade when he saw your face. Your eyes widened and you stared at him, not knowing what to say either.

“You are one of my best friends, and I love being around you but I just...I don’t know y/n. I really like you and I want to be with you.” He whispered, his hand softly holding your own in the cold of the night. The blush on your cheeks made you feel grateful for the darkness of the night.

“I like you too.” You whispered back as he stepped forward, his breath basically fanning your face. The two of you locked eyes, one of you glancing at the other’s lips every two seconds.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and you nodded. He closed the gap between you and wrapped his arm around your waist, his lips pressed against yours.

“I hate to interrupt but I need a fucking ride!” Zendaya yelled from the car, smirking at you and Tom. You both laughed and shook your heads.

Best wingwoman.

[inspired-aspirer]

Z Berg and Ryan Ross Concert Masterpost

hello and I am sorry that I promised to post before Christmas about my experience of flying to LA for the Z Berg and Friends concert where I saw and met Ryan Ross. Here is a breakdown of the night and how it went from what I remember and if you have any questions after I post this I will do my best to answer them and if I cannot I will tell you and perhaps someone who can answer you question better than I.

1. anything before the concert

So I know many of the people reading this are not in fact, from Los Angeles California, and I can say I am not one of those people. I live in the middle of nowhere, better known as the state of Oklahoma. So the trip in and of itself was my Christmas present and cost ten times over the price of the ticket to the concert itself. I decided to purchase the tickets after Ryan Ross posted to instagram his photo of the Bad List shoot with “…Gonna play some new ones” as the caption to his post on 30th November. I then convinced three of my friends to come with me, flying from Oklahoma, Georgia and another from Alabama. We found some cheap ass tickets that ran about $250 each and convinced some family friends to let us use their beach house for a weekend and we were off. The tickets were $15.00 before taxes and fees, afterwards they rang up to be a grand total of $18.21.

It is notable that the tickets sold out prior to the day of the concert so I would recommend with any of Z’s concerts in the future, to buy your tickets weeks in advance to avoid anyone not getting a ticket.

2. the day of the concert

a. before doors open

The location of the concert was at the Pico Union Project which my friends and I looked up the night before to scope out the place. I recommend looking up the places around it if you plan on camping out for the day for a restroom and most definitely pack snacks. I ate lunch at noon and made the mistake of not eating again until 6am the next day which really was not a good thing. So pack snacks and take care of yourself. We got there around 3:30pm and there were already about 30ish people. We just missed Z coming out early to see everyone and take pictures, but nonetheless, we got a pretty great spot in line. I will say that for the most part, all of the people waiting outside the concert were lovely, and we all had a great time talking about what we were looking forward to and where everyone was from. I met some chill locals who had been to these things before, a guy who had been to every single one of Z’s concerts and a girl who, like me, got this trip as a Christmas present and flew with her mom all the way from Massachusetts.

*We all added eachother on insta and facebook so 10/10 quality people.

I will however, point out some things that were not good or respectful, and I hope people in the future will refrain from doing this in the future. 

1. Being disrespectful to people passing by, especially to some of the homeless people we saw walking by throughout the evening. 

2. Wearing new Panic! merch (I’ll get into this later because there was an issue to be dealt with during the meet and greet time.)

3. Playing new Panic! songs while people are trying to listen the pre-show sound check and rehearsals, or just playing new Panic! stuff in general

4. Also I overheard a group of girls say “Honestly, I am more of a Brendon fan, he is sooo hot. And tbh fuck Ryan Ross haha” and I get it, everyone is entitled to their opinion and such but if you are going to have that attitude, please keep it to yourself. I didn’t hear such negativity during the meet and greet from them but it really put me in a bad mood when I heard that.

The doors did open right at 8 o’clock and everyone was really good at staying in their place in line and not rushing the door. Have your tickets ready to scan and phones at full brightness. (Bring battery packs because you will need your phone for a ticket scan and probably for pics of the performances and if you want to meet them later so save it for as long as possible.) Due to our great spot in line we sat in the fourth row back which was prime seating and we had the great luck of sitting behind Z’s family which was really fun to hear them talk about the work put into the show and other fun tid bits. There was even a point when her grandmother said something like “I don’t know why they insisted on leaving so late to get here. I think they should have left early and had a nice lunch before all this” and I thought that was the most adorable and grandma thing to say. Also if you are 21 or older, you can get a wristband for alcohol, if you have your ID out and ready to show them when you first walk into the venue when they scan your ticket. I also recommend getting into the line for merch quickly because things do sell out and the line does take forever. I immediately got in line when my ticket was scanned while my friends snagged seats and it still took me about 20-30 minutes to get everything I wanted. Also I recommend taking cash to buy things, it makes everything go faster.

b. the concert

The concert itself was amazing. Z hosted the entire first half from the balcony in an exact replica of Sharon Tate’s wedding dress as I am sure you have seen photos of. I will confirm, it was magical. She curses like a sailor in front of a backdrop of pure grace. She interacted with he audience the entire time and genuinely enjoys just spending time with her fans and the people that came to hear some good music. The first half of the show was the “& Friends” portion of the show, with majority of the people playing one song each with a few exceptions such as Azure Ray, Jackson Browne, Alex Greenwald and of course, Ryan Ross. 

So throughout the concert, people in the concert/show (idk what I would call it officially???) would come in and out from backstage to watch each other, which I thought was wholesome. Ryan did not come out to watch like everyone else and my working theory is, the one time he did poke his head out the door, first of all, me and like 10 other people saw him, he smiled and winked (I died) and then went back in, after that people stopped paying attention to whomever was onstage and so I think he didn’t want to take away from the other acts performing. It's admirable and I understand why he stayed backstage until it was his time to go and then would promptly exit after his numbers were done. 

In the first half Ryan came out with Alex Greenwald and played the guitar for him. Everyone screamed and cheered despite the wonderfully melancholic mood of the crowd mixed with the beautifully crestfallen music that had preceded them. Alex jokingly said “wow you guys are so nice” after we screamed following the remark someone in the back made along the lines of “I love you Ryan”. Let’s be honest, we were all thinking it and she had the courage to say it. So as far as the number, he sat and played his guitar in a suit that looked one size too big and jet black hair that was perfectly out of place. It was heaven. Following Alex’s song, Ryan ditched the guitar and joined him to sing “Lonely Moonlight” as a duet. He made jokes prior to the song saying they wrote it “18 or 25 years ago”. Alex agreed and laughed to which Ryan amended “actually it was the year 1825 when we wrote this” and the crowed giggled with them. 

What I’m getting at is this entire concert, there were moments when you felt like no one else was around and you are sitting in any one of their living rooms, having a good time listening to them play their music and laugh with each other. “Lonely Moonlight” was beautiful and the hall was silent a part from them, no one dared speak until Ryan smiled and walked off the stage and disappeared backstage again. A few more beautiful songs later, many which Z sang in followed and then there was a brief intermission for approximately 15 minutes. 

The second half of the concert Z came back on stage to the “Overture” from Nightmare Before Christmas and I died. Her voice is literally angelic and I just want everyone to know that while you damn well know that she knows she has the best fuckin’ voice ever, she remained absolutely graceful about it in any duet she did and didn’t try to out do anyone and remained humble the entire freaking time and I’m gonna cut myself off right now because she is my role model. 

*inhales* 

Anyways, so I’m just gonna tell you she brought Ryan on stage with one of the most iconic ways you could bring Ryan on stage, “Um, haha, I think I need a little baby Ryro” *everyone screams* “I do that to when he walks into a room. After ten years it is getting pretty fuckin’ annoying” and he smiled and laughed and everyone was probably either screaming or crying or a combination of both. She and Ryan sang “Calm Before the Storm” together, he just sang with her and she played the guitar as well. After his bit in the song was done, he just walked to the back of the stage and sat on the floor and just smiled at her and did some funny gestures, (Again, I have this on video, I just don’t know how to link long videos in a tumblr post). The crowd was amused by this and it caused Z to turn around to see what was going on, and they laughed. 

Again the atmosphere was pure enjoyment and I wish everyone would get to experience that at any concert. Then he walked off stage while Z said “yeah we just love to watch you walk away” and truer words have never been spoken. The final time he did come out to perform was, of course, for “The Bad List”. 

c. The Bad List

Yes I am giving this one song an entire thing on it’s own because I just have a lot of things to say about this performance of this song. 

First of all, during the soundcheck while we (all the crazy fans) were outside we heard the song resonate outside the walls and the sound was angelic, so you could only imagine what it sounded like inside the venue. 

Second, everything before, during, and after really just was surreal and thank god I have the whole thing on video (and I mean the WHOLE 7.5 minutes) because it is NOT something I want to ever forget. Ryan came onstage, and hugged Z and everyone awed, and then she went into this adorable and heart-warming speech thanking her fans and the people coming out tonight while Ryan tried to move his mic to the other side of her. 

This was hilarious for two reasons. 

First, any footage I have seen of Ryan Ross, out doing normal people things has just been gold because just like the rest of us, I would imagine, he is on the struggle bus every day going nowhere fast. So he had a time and a half trying to move the mic stand along with everything else to the other side of the stage. 

Second, Z was completely oblivious the entire time he was trying his best, to move the mic. Adorable really. He also chimed in at the end of her speech that “She means that it’s all she has been talking about all week” which apparently embarrassed her but let’s be real, she is two perfect and sweet to even think abou tbeing embarassed. Don’t worry, she got him back by calling him out for saying they should turn up the piano “a weenie bit”. Then she announced they were going to sing “The Bad List” and everyone cheered to which Ryan responded with a sarcastic “Wait have you heard it yet?” and yeah, the song began. 

It was divinely depressing. It was perfection.

Videos of the preformance don’t do it justice. We were the first and so far the only audience to hear it live, and everything I did to get there up to this point was worth it. It was the best performance of any song I have ever witnessed. I will navigate this hell site and hopefully figure out how to upload the video without getting copyright to take it down on my youtube channel and link it below so you guys can watch it. 

As many of you know, the song it super personal to them and a few times, you heard Z’s voice break from the truth the lyrics spoke about their life, and when each of them sang, the other really didn’t look at them. It was moving to see the emotion that drove the lyrics to the song and to hear which lines bled the most to each of them. In the piano instrumental part of the song, Ryan broke up the melancholy mood by asking Z to dance with him and they smiled and had a blast (or so it looked). She eventually went limp in his arms to play dead and you could see Ryan laughing at the theatrics she pulled. 

After the song ended, the smiled, everyone cheered, and they exchanged a few words which I couldn’t make out before she pulled everyone on stage for the final number. Ryan, ever the smol bean, walked to the side of the stage and did his best to blend in when everyone else from the evening piled on stage.

d. last number and Post-concert

Ok so I am almost done, I promise. The last number was “All Out of Tears” which everyone came up on stage for and sang with her on. Everyone stood up from thier pews for the last song and everyone clapped, danced, and sang along with her. The guitar and bass from the speakers were so loud that the “Z” hanging above the stage fell down in the middle of the performance, to which Alex Greenwald played the tambourine to throughout the second half of the song. Z promised that she would stay until the very last person got a picture or hug or autograph and wouldn’t leave until then. 

The concert ended on a high note unlike another. 

side note: so I know there is a joke about Ryan not being able to clap, and let me tell you, I made a point to look at the big ass rings he wears all the time when I met him, and yeah it would make me not able to clap normal either. In the video I have of them preforming “All Out of Tears” he at one point shakes his hands and mouths “ow” because I’d imagine his poor hands hurt. So yeah, still funny but give the guy a break.

After a breif break they all came out from backstage and made their way to the Christmas tree. They (Ryan and Z, the rest of the people left before I could get their autograph) kept their promise. Ryan came out chugging yellow red bulls and Z was a new woman after ripping off her straps to her dress (she told me and my friends this). I waited two and a half hours in line to meet Ryan and Z. It was at about two in the morning when I finally got my turn to speak to him. I noticed throughout the evening, he was never short with anyone, and if someone seemed overwhelmed and nervous (@me) he would take a pause, ask for your name and listen intently to whatever that person had to say to him. I was extremely nervous to have him sign any old Panic! merch and I have a few things to say about Ryan Ross and Panic! merch at the concert.

First off, don’t wear it, especially if it is new. Now I am not one for gatekeeping on a lot of things. However, I did see an individual (my hero) make a girl take of a new Panic! lanyard before she went up to see Ryan. It is disrespectful and frankly insensitive for anyone to do that to him in my opinion. The entire time he was patient, and understanding and omg if you ever get to hear his chuckle you will surely die and go to heaven, but I am appalled at anyone who would wear new Panic! merch or have the audacity to have him sign it. Thankfully, she took it off and I didn’t see anyone ask him to sign any new Panic! merch.

Second, Ryan is more than delighted to see The Young Veins apparel. One of the people I met at the concert was wearing a Young Veins sweatshirt and I saw some albums and CD’s people brought to him to sign and he had no issue doing so. 

Third, on the issue of Panic! merch he WAS a part of, such as AFYCSO and Pretty. Odd. albums, he signs them no problem. The girl right before me had all three CD’s (afycso, pretty odd, and take a vacation) and he said “Wow haha, you have all three of them” and laughed. I split up the stuff I wanted signed between myself and three friends so I got four things signed. One was my 2007 Rolling Stones issue where Panic! made the cover, I flipped the magazine to the page that had his face on it and when I gave it to him I had the best reaction. 

Well, first I totally blanked out so I only remember this because one of my friends videotaped the whole thing. Anyways, I said “hi, don’t hate me for what I am about to have you sign” among other things, gave him a letter and a bag of sour patch kids, and he said, no worries and just continued talking to me like it was no big deal. when I handed him the magazine he went “Oh man, I haven’t seen this photo in a while.” and even was stumped as to where he should sign it. He took the time to talk to me and let me say what I wanted to say to him. I asked to hug him and he said ok. Just so you know, he lets you take any kind of photo you want (within reason). Unfortunately I don’t have a single photo where we are looking at the same camera, but I have a 10/10 photo of Ryan Ross giving me a hug and let me just say, I am blessed. Another of my friends got an afysco vinyl signed and another got the booklet to my Pretty. Odd. CD signed without any issue or trouble. 

Now, my friend had a silver sharpie which I gave her before to sign a poster I bought of the cover of The Bad List with him and Z on it and she said he went to sign it, started to, then saw the silver sharpie, and went, “that is a silver sharpie” and she went, “it is” and then he said “I want to sign with the silver sharpie” so he signed my poster AGAIN in silver sharpie. Then, she went to Z to have her sign it, and she signed it and said “Wait, did he sign this twice? Well now I have to” and she signed the poster at the top in the middle and again on the picture. So that is the story of how I got the poster signed twice by both of them. 

e. Tid bits

I don’t think you want to hear all of the tid bits I have from talking to them on and off for an hour or so but here are the highlights.

I also got to hear Ryan say he made the Christmas playlist that was playing in the background. 

At one point, Z said, “I have to go to the bathroom, but he will be mad at me if he knows I left. Don’t tell him” and ran to the bathroom. Well Ryan did notice and went “where did she go” and we said “She said we can’t tell you” and he laughed and went back to signing and talking to whoever was next in line. 

Before I left Ryan I said to him “by the way, I can’t wait to hear the new music” and he chuckled and replied “Soon, I promise” and smiled before I left, so there’s that. 

Also might I add. I got the best hug of my life from Z. I spent like two solid minutes with my fiends telling her she was absolute perfection (there are no lies in that statement) and gushed over how amazing the show was and everything else and then she game me a solid, and I mean solid, 30 second hug and to be honest I didn’t want to let go. Then we talked to her some more and had a good time and then realized we had to leave because we had about 2 and a half hours until we had to be at LAX for our flight out. I cried on the way back because hello? I met Ryan Ross and Z Berg and you best believe I will do just about anything to make sure I can go to any more of her concerts.

So yeah I will try to post videos later. Thank you for your patience with me and uploading it. If you have ANY questions, please send me an ask. I won’t mind answering them at all. I hope everyone had a wonderfully dreadful Christmas on The Bad List and I can’t wait to see what music Ryan has in store for 2019.

much love ♥♥♥

[pastelninjaimagines]

★☆♡♥♦ൠ for my boys Shino and Sai? Maybe Gaara and Hinata too? Sorry if this is alot

Shino 

★ - sad headcanon

When Shino’s upset he doesn’t show it. He internalizes it and anyone looking would just assume he’s his normal stoic self. He’s definitely a bit broody and when he’s sad he’d prefer to be alone. 

☆ - happy headcanon

Shino is happiest when, you guessed it, he’s surrounded by his insects. One of his favorite things to do is categorize them. Literally nothing makes him happier than spending his time doing that. He even names them. Like he remembers every single one. Idk how but it just makes him to happy to do it. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

He’s clueless when it comes to romance. Doesn’t know a thing about it. What is flirting? Shino doesn’t know. He’s awkward and would rather just stay silent than talk to his crush. He’d have to swallow his pride and ask Kiba all these questions, and then question Kiba’s common sense because do you really pretend your yawning to put your arm around your crush Kiba that doesn’t sound right. He’s hopeless. 

♥ - family headcanon

I think Shino would be very close with his father. His father was the one to teach him all about insects and he has fond memories as a child of him and his dad going to search for bugs with his dad watching fondly as Shino ran around with a butterfly net. Shino was a cute kid y’all. And as Shino grew up he stayed very close with his dad, who supports him in everything he does. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

A quirk that Shino has is that every morning before he gets out of bed, he has to count to thirty. It’s his way of bracing himself for the day, especially when he knows he has to deal with a lot of people. He gives himself that thirty seconds of preparation before getting out of bed in the morning. 

ൠ - random headcanon

He can’t stand the cold. At all. So to prevent himself from getting the shivers, he always bundles up, even if it’s like 90 degrees outside this boy is in a jacket, pants, he might even have gloves on and you bet he’ll be wearing layers. It’s unnatural af. 

Sai

★ - sad headcanon

When Sai is sad, it comes from his feelings of emptiness and loneliness. His biggest fear is being left alone and abandoned. When in a group setting, if he feels like he’s not really apart of it, if they are ignoring him (whether subconsciously or they actually are) he just wants to fade into the background and he will leave to be by himself. Sai doesn’t have to put up with that. But he doesn’t really fall into self pity, he’ll shirk it off pretty quick and go back to his smiley self if confronted over why he left. He just doesn’t like feeling that way, like he’s not even there to people. He doesn’t deserve it. 

☆ - happy headcanon

Engaging Sai in conversations about his art makes this boy glow with happiness. He can ramble about his art for hours so please, do it. He will be a blushing, giddy mess if you complement his drawings like wow he’s so cute and appreciative of it. When he’s talking about things that make him happy he’s just so smiley and radiates happiness, like make this boy’s day and let him ramble to you. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

Sai is very by the book when it comes to romance. At first, he never really knew what to do, until he consulted the romance section of his local bookstore. He legitimately takes all of his ideas about romance straight from sappy romance novels. So yes, you will get fancy candlelight dinners, and walks under the moonlight, and rose petals covering the bed, because that’s what Sai is convinced what romance is. 

♥ - family headcanon

Shin was the only family that Sai had ever known. Whenever there was a festival going on in town, Shin would convince Sai to sneak away from wherever Danzo was keeping them and go and enjoy the festival. These were some of Sai’s fondest memories growing up because he and his brother could act like the children they actually were, playing games, eating good food, watching the festivities. Looking back on those memories, they glow with a shiny fondness. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Sai is nothing but quirky. He does this thing where he rehearses full on conversations in the mirror, pretending to be in different situations, filling in what the other person would say, etc. These conversation can go on for a full thirty minutes. Like he’s for real. He also totally practices different facial expressions in the mirror too. He wants to know what he looks like when he’s smiling, laughing, scowling, etc. so that he can make the “perfect expression.” 

One of Sai’s hobbies, besides painting/drawing, is practicing calligraphy. He has super good handwriting and he loves to just sit down and copy different texts into his absolutely beautiful handwriting. He finds it so relaxing and a way to be doing something without much effort. 

ൠ - random headcanon

He loves being amongst nature. Not only does it fuel his creativity, but it makes him feel very peaceful. He’ll wake up early, even on his days off, to go for a morning stroll through a garden or even a wooded area, soaking up the silence and the early morning radiance of the world just waking up. It starts his day off right and when he doesn’t do this in the morning he tends to be grumpier. 

Gaara

★ - sad headcanon

Pls don’t make this cinnamon roll sad. He’s too precious. He’s the type to isolate himself. He also has that single tear aesthetic going on. But he will cut himself off from literally everyone when he’s feeling particularly down. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want any mention of it. He’s an internalizer of his pain and doesn’t want to burden anyone with it. Eventually he’ll work himself out, normally he has to go out in the desert and work out his emotions by himself there. What he does is a mystery to everyone but him. 

☆ - happy headcanon

Gaara loves hugs. Almost nothing makes him happier. He was so touch starved for most of his childhood, that literally any form of physical affection makes him so, so happy like he’s just glowy and smiley for the rest of the day when someone gives him a big hug. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

Gaara is more cutesy than romantic. He loves holding his s/o’s hand, especially when they’re out in public. He also loves kissing their knuckles. He blushes so hard. Also nose kisses. Yes. He’s a cutiepie. 

♥ - family headcanon

So obviously, when Gaara got older he became much closer to his two siblings. He has a very teasing relationship with Konkurow. Like they’re always on each other about one thing or another, but it’s all in good fun. Especially because Konkurow is very protective of Gaara. And so is Temari but in a much more obvious way. She is sort of Gaara’s mother figure, especially because she is the eldest sibling. They have a very good dynamic, Temari’s always reminding Gaara of things he’s forgotten and Gaara always manages to make Temari smile no matter what kind of day she’s having, he always brightens her mood. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Gaara really likes gardening. He’s got an army of succulents and cacti. They litter his office and his bedroom to the point that both Temari and Konkurow have said that he doesn’t have room for more. Gaara ignores this and goes and buys like 20 more to take care of. He’s got an amazing green thumb. He often volunteers in Suna’s greenhouses, and he’s somehow able to tend to plants that even professionals have a difficult time cultivating to make it so the plants are now thriving. It’s a wonder to everyone who works in the greenhouses. They don’t know how he does it. 

ൠ - random headcanon

Gaara is 100% band from entering sand sculpture competitions. It just wouldn’t be fair considering he can bend the sand to any shape with his will. So no participating in sand sculpture competitions for him. But he will be a judge. And he’s very critical, except when he’s judging a kids competition. Then he always gives everyone a solid 8/10 because how could he judge children? They all have such potential. He’s a softy. 

Hinata

★ - sad headcanon

Hinata is a crier. Whenever she’s sad, she tries to get as far away from prying eyes and just let the tears flow. She really can’t help it. She curls up in a ball, holding herself makes her feel better. And after she’s had a good cry, most of the bad feelings have left her, like she’s expelling all of that negativity through her tears. 

☆ - happy headcanon

The littlest kind gestures make Hinata so happy. Oh you held the door open for her, you’ll receive the biggest smile. Oh, you helped her pick up something she dropped, again you are graced by an angelic smile. It just puts her in such a good mood for the rest of the day to witness any good deed being done. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

Hinata is a hopeless romantic. So when she finds herself in situations that she had fantasized about for years, like a cute date, or finally kissing her s/o, she becomes a blushing mess, like as red as a tomato. She becomes so flustered it’s adorable. She also has all these ideas in her head that she herself tries to make happen, but she always ends up “messing up” aka it coming off as perfect and romantic, and then feels bad. Her s/o has to explain that everything she did was perfect and then she becomes a stuttering, blushing mess again. 

♥ - family headcanon

Hinata didn’t always have such a great relationship with her dad, he was very hard on her during her childhood, until he had a change of heart and accepted her for the person she was, not who he wanted her to be. Now he’s extremely doting on her, but a little less protective of her, he lets her do her own thing. But he’s her shoulder to lean on and her comfort always and he loves when Hinata comes to consult with things going on in her life.

Hinata and Hanabi get along very well. Hanabi is also very protective of her big sister, she gets very fierce if she sees anyone disrespecting Hinata in any way. Hinata taught Hanabi how to crochet and they bond over crafting and they are their going out to eat partners. Hinata loves to go clothes shopping with Hanabi and pick out outfits for her little sister to try that the younger girl would never pick for herself. Hinata loves to get Hanabi little gifts whenever she goes shopping alone too. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

She love to crochet, and along with that Hinata is very crafty in general. Also she’s great at baking. One of her favorite things to make is chocolates. She makes them in really cute shapes and likes to get creative with them. Her favorite thing is to make things for her friends and loved ones, so you bet for special occasions they are getting knitted sweaters with cute saying stitched on them, long crochet scarves, and homemade chocolates. 

ൠ - random headcanon

Hinata is really good with small animals, like kittens, bunnies, birds, small dogs (though akamaru is the only big dog she is comfortable around). They always just find her and she could pet them for hours and hours. She sometimes takes strays home (to her father’s chagrin) and takes care of them for a while until finding them a good home.